


The Dastardly Prince

by celtious



Series: The Long Road to Freedom [1]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtious/pseuds/celtious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a young Sesshoumaru takes notice of her curious fire, a castle servant fights for her honor, power, and the right to decide her own fate.  Under Sesshoumaru's command, what she discovers and how it shapes them will set the tone for both their lives; for good and for ill.</p><p>Sessh/OC, other OCs, Pre-Inuyasha, Drama, Sentimental</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was co-written with my friend, AerionDyseti and is published here with their express knowledge and permission. Thanks, Aerion! This story includes a few events that are anime- and movie-exclusive that I think add to the story, but otherwise the goal was to keep it as manga-cannon as possible. I hope you find it as interesting to read as it was for us to write! Thanks!

Of all the mighty daiyoukai that prowled central Japan, the Inu no Taishou was by far the most ferocious. Only the foolhardy dared to challenge his ancient territorial claims and few of those demons lived to tell of their nightmarish encounters with him. As the impulsive brigands were slain or would finally bend knee to him, each new generation of ambitious demons rose to take their place. Despite his reputation, they sought to challenge the great General and most met their ends soon after. No matter how he toiled, his work was never finished, but the presence of his long-time companion and Warmaster, the jackal demon Rekkonji, made the violent lifestyle manageable. While the Inu no Taishou's many enemies knew him only by his moniker, Rekkonji knew him as 'Touga'.

Physically speaking, the two elder demons were quite the pair of opposites. Where Touga was tall and solidly build, his jackal companion was shorter, compact, and lithe. The General kept his silvery hair high in a trailing pony tail while Rekkonji kept his tawny braid low to fall down his back. Rekkonji's eyes were dark and touched with red while Touga's were kissed with the burnished orange of the marigold. The older dog's clean-shaven face bore a single set of cobalt stripes that tapered elegantly along his alabaster cheeks, while Rekkonji's face was without markings, his skin tanned, and sported a finely groomed goatee. Despite their great many centuries, both retained the youthful appearance common to all greater demons.

No one knew exactly how old Touga was, but he had reached an age where the injudicious bloodlust of his nature had given way to the wisdom of experience and something akin to compassion. No one understood this change better than Rekkonji, the stalwart jackal who had followed the General on his campaign to control central Japan for centuries. He suspected the impending arrival of Touga's first pup was at the heart of these changes.

Where he had once been almost entirely nomadic, Touga had constructed a base from which to operate upon the birth of his son, Sesshoumaru; and where he might have exacted harsh punishment for troublemaking, he began showing more empathy and consideration to the demons of his lands. He had never been cruel, per se, but the difference was noticeable.

Of all of Touga's acts of mercy, the most memorable and baffling to Rekkonji was the incident that had brought into the base a rather peculiar creature. The relatively young Sesshoumaru was several centuries old by then, well fit to be left to his own devices at the base, and so Touga had no reservations about striking out with the Warmaster now and then. It was during a patrol run that Rekkonji and the General had come across a pair of half-demons with a pup in tow trespassing on the General's territory. Finding two humanoid half-breeds at once was strange enough, but finding ones that had spawned a child between them was unheard of.

When they groveled for their lives, Rekkonji was sure his friend would exact an appropriate punishment, but Touga simply ordered them out of his lands. Rekkonji had been taken aback, and demanded the hanyou pay tribute to the General for his mercy before leaving. Having nothing else, and seeming quite pleased with the opportunity, they abandoned their child to the General's use and fled. Instead of leaving the unfortunate creature to fend for herself, Touga had put her to work at the base under the scrutinizing vigil of Fuyutoka, the Overseer of the base.

For one hundred and sixty years the half-breed Kuroihi toiled, mostly unseen and unheard by the greater demons of the Inu no Taishou's castle-base, all but forgotten save by Fuyutoka, who managed her nigh invisible efforts. As she grew and came to understand her place in the world, the hanyou became convinced she would spend her entire life slinking through the dark spaces beneath the tatami mats and wooden floors. That was, if she left her life to fate…


	2. Chapter 1: Seen

_ _

_1250, mid-Kamakura Period_

The hot summer wind tumbled its way around and through the Inu no Taishou's castle-like base stationed in the Western Province. On it danced the scent of the coming rains and the tang of fire and death.

General Touga and his son Sesshoumaru were splattered with dirt and blood when they arrived home, the stench of battle clinging to them. Rekkonji had stayed behind for this battle at Touga's request, and he met the pair as they passed through the gates and barking at the few attendants on hand to take the ruined armor and weapons from the two greater demons. Freed of the burdens, they continued their way across the immaculately kept courtyard, Rekkonji falling into step beside the General.

"My lord?" Rekkonji asked, and the General understood he was querying about the recent battle.

"As much a victory as we could have hoped for," Touga said simply. "The Panther demons have been forced back into their territory to the west, their master is slain, and we have much work ahead of us to repair the damage they've done to these lands."

Rekkonji nodded. "The scouts are ready to leave at your command to examine the remaining damage."

"Good. Send them now." The General's tone was urgent.

Rekkonji bowed respectfully before leaving to comply.

Touga and his son paused long enough outside the entrance of the castle for their attendants to replace their filth-covered boots with clean geta sandals before stepping up onto the veranda that wrapped around the castle.

"Freshen up, then join me in my study." The General commanded his son.

"As you wish, father." Sesshoumaru responded airily, giving his father a respectful bow and both demons went their separate ways, Sesshoumaru to the left, and Touga to the right.

Sesshoumaru soon rounded the corner to the west side of the castle, which was his wing, and sauntered leisurely down the veranda toward the entrance to his quarters. He knew his father was wanting to review the battled they had just returned from, but Sesshoumaru was in no hurry to oblige him. As he strode, he noted the figure tending to the small garden he'd tasked his servants with keeping, which was situated against the castle wall and where he could see it from his quarters. At first, he did not recognize the being, only the slate grey kimono and hakama it wore, indicating it was, in fact, one of his servants. Arriving at the sliding doors to his rooms, he paused and observed the person for a moment more. The male's shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, green eyes narrowed with focus as he raked the sand of the garden into perfectly even horizontal lines. Suddenly, he flinched, as though struck, his narrowed eyes widening with momentary fear as they fell on Sesshoumaru, who merely smirked.

"L-lord Sesshoumaru!" he gasped, flinging himself down into a prostrated bow, the bamboo rake clattering to the ground beside him. "Welcome home!"

Sesshoumaru did not respond. He recalled this servant now; Ide, was his name. Ide had come to him perhaps a month before Sesshoumaru and his father had left for battle, which had been two months prior. Ide was young, pliable, and in almost every way plain and unmemorable. His idle curiosity satisfied, Sesshoumaru turned and stepped quietly inside as the wood doors slid open for him, leaving his geta on the veranda to avoid tracking dirt inside. A shadowed figure who was crouched just inside the doors slid them closed silently behind him. Sesshoumaru did not need to glance to know it was another of his three servants, Kazawa.

The slated windows that made up the wall to the outside were open, illuminating his private quarters and inviting a pleasant breeze to help alleviate the summer heat. Several tall wrought iron stands which held unlit oil lamps were scattered strategically through the long rectangular room, and the polished wood floor stretched from one end to the other. The open space was broken up into the various areas of necessity -futon room, armor and clothing corner, etc- by tall paper screens that nearly scraped the low ceiling. One such section was the entrance to his quarters from the inside of the castle, whose screens were arranged to shield the rest of his quarters from view. It was the only area without wood, floored instead with delicately woven bamboo tatami mats.

Sesshoumaru made his way to the sectioned off area in the far corner of his quarters, where empty stands for his armor awaited him. Kazawa fell into step behind his master to assist, taking the pieces of armor and placing them on their appropriate stands as Sesshoumaru released their ties and shrugged out of them. Kazawa attended the young daiyoukai for the next hour, tending to his demands for a bath, a clean yukata, and tea. The attendant did not speak, did not even glance at his master unless it was necessary. He had served Sesshoumaru long enough to know that such things were considered annoying; and what Sesshoumaru found annoying, he punished. Harshly. In contrast, the eastern wing of the castle rang with the gentle laughter and murmurs of the General's servants as they tended to him in a similar manner. While his son was cold and silent, Touga was more than happy to recount the recent battle to his attendants and chat idly as he, too, refreshed himself.

The General arrived in his study long before Sesshoumaru did. He had come to expect such dilatory behavior from his son, most likely inherited from his noble but dispassionate mother. As Touga waited, he drew down a map for the territory in which the battle had taken place as well as various tokens to represent combatants on either side, arranging it all across a low wood table at the center of the room. The encounter replayed in his mind as he situated each piece on the map, exposing where he had erred and where his strategy had been appropriate. He had been able to track most of the battle from his position in the clouds, raging against the leader of the Panther tribe. Sesshoumaru's efforts, however, were little more than a generalization in Touga's memory, which was precisely why he wanted to review the events of the battle with his son…if the conceited pup ever arrived…

Finally, Sesshoumaru chose to appear, attended by Kazawa as well as his third servant: a female with shock blue eyes named Aoki. Sesshoumaru seated himself comfortably on the zabuton sitting cushion arranged for him opposite his father with the map and table between them. Aoki and Kazawa knelt to both sides of and several feet behind their master, mirroring the placement of the General's attendants. Each group tended to their respective lord as the father-son pair re-enacted the battle via the tokens scattered across the map. A momentary inspection of the scene would have been enough for anyone to gain a decent perspective to each daiyoukai's nature. Touga was poised but at ease in his usual white summer yukata, which had his signature striped designs along the shoulder and sleeves in cobalt blue. The haughty young Sesshoumaru, too, was in white, but his geometric designs were a deep purple. The General's servants, equally relaxed yet attentive, donned comfortable bright yellow yukata with floral patterns. Aoki and Kazawa, on the other hand, struggled to stay cool in their thicker slate grey kimono and heat-retaining hakama pants, rigid postures flinching each time their master even appeared to spare them a glance. Truly, there was something debasing about being in Sesshoumaru's presence.

Animalistic depravity glinted in the young daiyoukai's honey-gold eyes as he followed the trail of his father's claws across the map laid out between them. The General was saying something about minding the terrain, but the younger demon could only hear the echoed memory of his victim's death cries. How many had he slain on that battlefield? How much blood had stained his claws? He could still taste their despair and the terror on the air, could still feel the heat of their blood splattering across his elegant features, and every facet of their agony brought him the deepest pleasure. Another violent memory played in his mind's eye, and Sesshoumaru visibly shuddered from the joy of it. Sensing his son's distraction, the general paused, frowning slightly.

"Tell me, Sesshoumaru: what is it you are thinking that makes the very air about you quiver? I have yet to see you be calm since the battle ended."

Sesshoumaru brought himself back to present and spared his father an agreeable expression to show that his attention had returned. He took a moment to process the General's words, and a moment more to formulate a response.

"Thinking? I am merely reviewing the confrontation with the Panther demons, chichi-ue, as you have requested."

"Perhaps, though not in the manner I desire. There is more on your mind than the felines." the General said, resting his hands on his knees as he awaited a response.

And, as was his tendency, Sesshoumaru tried his father's patience by delaying before chuckling to himself. "As usual, you are correct, father. I am also considering power, you see, and the nature of superiority. In this world, the powerful rule. The sovereign claim who and where they please. By your blood, I am born to such a birthright. I am destined for predominance, and also to walk the same path as your honorable self."

"The path I walk…?" Touga asked.

"The path of conquest, father; to become the exalted master of all."

The general was quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully before he began to speak again. "My son, I urge you to be cautious with such thoughts. It is clear that you have chosen an objective, and for one so young that is admirable. But consider also 'why' you have chosen this path when so many others lie before you."

Sesshoumaru blinked, dispassionate, as his father continued.

"Believe me when I say I am familiar with the sensations you are experiencing. The ambition, the bloodlust; these are natural for those such as ourselves, but they must be held in check. I encourage you to turn your attention elsewhere for a time. Experience and understand the significance of each element of the panorama of life."

The General paused as he recognized the slightly glazed hue to Sesshoumaru's eyes. His son had already moved on to other, more attractive thoughts. Knowing the younger demon was beyond his reach now, the Inu no Taishou gave him a dismissive wave.

"We will speak more on this at another time. Go; summer is thick on the land, and the joy of victory is fleeting. Relish it while it lasts."

Sesshoumaru was more than happy to bow respectfully and leave his father to his soft predilections.

* * *

The visions and echoes of the battle with the Panther tribe still sang through Sesshoumaru, tingling in his claws and across his fangs as he meandered through the grove just beyond the walls of the base. He could all but feel himself on that field again, surrounded by the pesky minions of the enemy tribe. Their bones crushed easily with just a flick of his wrist, their flesh melting away from the poison he exuded from his hands. He could almost see and hear his father and the master of the Panther tribe high above him again, their demonic energies clashing like a violent storm.

While the Inu no Taishou had but a single heir born from his own blood, the Panther leader had appointed four lieutenants; Touran, Karan, Shuran, and Shunran, none of which were his children. The latter two, who channeled the power of lightening and flowers, had been of little concern to Sesshoumaru. The female known as Karan manipulated fire and had been slightly more noteworthy than the others. Touran, however, the eldest female who could call up ice as she desired, had been his main focus. Her combat prowess matched with her elemental skill proved entertaining for Sesshoumaru, though he would never admit that the female had actually proven a challenge to his own skills. He welcomed another clash with the Panther commander, confidant that this time, he would make her scream not in horror at the loss of her master, but of her own life at Sesshoumaru's hands.

Sesshoumaru's inner demonic nature found great enjoyment as he continued to examine his many victories. The General's purpose for going to war with the Panther tribe was to protect the demons in his lands from domination by the Panthers. Sesshoumaru, on the other hand, had followed his father for one reason alone: murder. His father's countless enemies gave Sesshoumaru endless justification to indulge in his only passion. To bring destruction, to cause agony and suffering, these things pleased him well enough, but the death cries of his enemies composed his rhapsodies, his lullabies.

Left to his own devices, Sesshoumaru would have been satisfied to spend the rest of his afternoon constructing new melodies, a malicious curl on his lips, but his father's voice wormed its way into the chords. After a moment of struggling to reclaim the autonomy of his own thoughts, Sesshoumaru begrudgingly relented to his father's desire and attempted to reflect on something more 'constructive'.

Sesshoumaru had chosen the path of a conqueror as his destiny, but why? The answer was simple enough; because it was his right. He had been born to the mightiest of demons, a god-like being of unrivaled power and strength, and one day Sesshoumaru would defeat him and take his place. It was the natural order of things, after all. That was all the answer he had for his father's question, and all the answer that was needed. Sesshoumaru was not one to question the way things were done; at least, not yet. When he was a power unto himself, he could challenge the common law as he pleased. For now, it served him well.

As the sun began to set, he withdrew to the inner courtyard of the castle-base, pausing at his garden to appreciate its perfection. The rocks were smooth and arranged in a manner that was both aesthetically pleasing and invoked a sense of balance and calm, the small bonsai's elegantly twisting branches were immaculately preened, and the spread of sand was raked into a series of perfectly even horizontal lines. The small pool at one corner of the garden was still, lacking all forms of life and leaving its surface as smooth as glass. In the fading twilight, Sesshoumaru took a moment to examine his reflection.

He was tall for his age of 300 years, though had not quite achieved the stature of his glorious father. Where the General had a single set of cobalt stripes, Sesshoumaru had a pair of fuchsia striking contrast across his alabaster cheeks. The amaranthine crescent that graced his forehead was a trait from his mother, but the long trailing white fur he kept wrapped around his left shoulder closer resembled the twin-tailed mokomoko cloak his father wore. His thick, silvery locks of hair fell to just above his elbows, let free to dance on the warm evening breeze. He was, truly, the epitome of grace and beauty.

Satisfied, he pulled himself away from the pool and continued his leisurely stroll through the grounds. The moon had risen full and bright in the sun's absence, bringing to life a theatre of dancing shadows as the servants completed their evening tasks and retreated inside. It was quiet here now, and the stillness brought Sesshoumaru a sense of peace. The place he had taken as his own at the rear of the base was especially calming, disconnected from the hustle and bustle in the front. Here, he could be alone with his musings. At least, for a moment.

As he glided along with soundless steps, there was movement in the darkness nearby. Sesshoumaru's ears honed in on the sounds: the soft crunch of bare feet over loose dirt, the hollow clink of wood splits falling against each other, the crackle of a fire, and the barest rustle of cotton.

He shifted silently around the corner, raising a delicate brow as he found the source.

This area was considered the servant's area. Consequently, the fire pits that heated the baths were located here, and it was before one of these that a creature knelt. The fire it fed was still small, but it cast enough light for Sesshoumaru to make out pertinent details.

Its hair, twisted into a tight and frayed bun, sat just below a pair of tufted black-tipped ears atop its head. Judging by the ratty and stained attire, this servant had been neglected for some time. A quick examination of its scent told Sesshoumaru that such treatment was justified; the thing was only a half-demon, and a female, no less.

_'This must be the pitiful thing father and the Warmaster brought home some decades ago.'_ he thought to himself, ' _This_ _Sesshoumaru has never seen it before, meaning Fuyutoka has done his job well. What a regrettable little louse; it has not even noticed it is being watched. Perhaps a lesson on remaining alert will do it a bit of good.'_

In truth, Sesshoumaru had no intention of bettering anything about this creature; it was for his own entertainment and sport that he began stalking it. He could already feel it squirm helplessly as he crushed its throat, could hear it choke and whimper and drivel. His fingertips itched with anticipation, but then he paused.

As he watched, the hanyou pulled its sleeve back and reached into the heart of the infant fire. Did it mean to injure itself as a way to shirk its duties? Such a strategy was fitting for such a creature. It showed no sign of pain, however, and his heightened senses allowed him to observe the flow of feeble youki, a demon's life energy, from the creature into those flames and the fire turned black. The half-breed continued to feed its energy to the pit, and the flames grew higher and stronger until they engulfed every flammable thing within reach. Seeming satisfied, the hanyou withdrew its hand, and the fire returned to its natural red.

_'A half-demon…with power? How absurd! And yet… This Sesshoumaru has seen it with his own eyes.'_

The creature flicked a few clinging licks of fire from its hand as it rose from the roaring pit, and only now did it seem to take notice that it was no longer alone. Startled, its movements were quick and inelegant as those tufted ears stiffened and twisted to locate the stalker. It found him quickly enough, snapping its head about to fix him with a thoroughly terrified pair of sharp yellow eyes. Every frantic heartbeat made Sesshoumaru's fangs tingle with predatory glee.

Glinting honey-gold locked with panicked yellow, and the world seemed to suspend. The moment of time between heartbeats extended, fixing both beings in charged silence. It was the tension before a great release, the half breath before the hunt. Silently, he begged the creature to flee from him, to incite the chase he so longed for. And it did, but instead of turning to duck around the corner of the castle where he could have his way with it, the hanyou angled for the doorway just beyond the darkness only feet away. If it made it inside, it would escape.

It was not allowed to escape.

"Stay," he said sharply, his dulcet tones heavy with authority.

The creature nearly tripped over itself as it froze its motions and then hunched in the dirt, tufted ears pressed flat into its hair. Sesshoumaru sauntered closer, savoring every symptom of terror the creature displayed. He halted with less than a foot between its prostrated form and his geta.

"What do we have here…" Malice curled at his finely shaped lips, a counterfeit sweetness oozing into his voice as the creature trembled. "Why, good evening, _little hanyou…_ "


	3. Chapter 2: Haunted

Kuroihi dared not breathe.

Of all the people at the base to catch her, it had to be the General's son. She was not ignorant of Sesshoumaru's reputation and had seen the marks he often left on his ever-revolving roster of attendants. Only two had managed to last longer than a year in his service; the rest had begged the General to be released or just vanished without explanation or so much as a search. And now that same being, relentlessly cruel and cold as a winter storm, loomed over her.

His jyaki; it was enormous, weighing heavily upon her weary frame and threatening to suffocate her. It was pure evil, radiating a frigid blood lust she could barely conceive even existed. Her mind raced to find justification for his scrutiny. There was no reason for him to pay her any mind; she'd only been tending to her duties. She'd been seen doing it, though. That was the crux of it: she'd been _seen_. As she understood him, Sesshoumaru needed little, if any, more reasoning than that and Kuroihi cursed herself silently.

Fuyutoka would lash her mightily for this, and that would be on top of whatever the General's son chose to do to her. She'd been so close to being finished for the evening, and now this. Truly the gods were laughing at her from on high.

She felt his gaze crawl along her rigid form like the edge of a blade tracing where it would cut. Just what he was thinking, she dared not venture a guess. Whatever he was about to unleash on her, she prayed it would be quick and that he would get on with it. Unlike him, she did not have the leisure time to satiate his curiosity, but she could not move; not without his permission.

He shifted; his tabi-wrapped foot mere inches away, the supports of his geta biting into the loose dirt. His jyaki was crushing at this distance, all but paralyzing her. Her lungs burned for air, her head swam, and bright spots flashed across her vision. She was suffocating. As quietly as she could manage, Kuroihi forced herself to draw in just enough air to avoid fainting.

This wasn't going to end well for her.

* * *

Sesshoumaru examined the frozen thing before him.

He knew without a shadow of a doubt what he had seen her do with the fire but he could not find any other indications of power about this creature.

Had it been a fluke; a one-time miracle? Surely something with youki as limited and feeble as this could not possess any true talent of note, and yet Sesshoumaru could not deny what he had seen with his own eyes. There were demons that wielded fire, this was true and common enough, but the hanyou's flames had been black and given off a unique scent. It was molten, similar to magma, with a metallic tinge.

Why? How?

His lips parted as he prepared to speak, but a soft sound from inside the castle caught his attention. Someone was coming; Fuyutoka judging from the telltale pattern and weight of footfalls.

_'How bothersome_ ,' he thought, ' _I will have to manufacture a reason to interrogate this creature in the near future.'_

To be seen anywhere near the louse without a reason would be deplorable enough, and he refused to be caught giving it even a moment's consideration; at least, not tonight. With little more than a scoff, he left the hanyou with its face in the dirt and made his way through the entryway it had been intent on escaping into before.

His senses had not failed him as he met Fuyutoka on his way outside. The hawk demon deferred to Sesshoumaru's passing with a deep bow, his short quill-like hair rustling softly as the young daiyoukai passed.

A thought struck Sesshoumaru and he paused, turning to address the Overseer.

"Fuyutoka," he began, his tone ringing with false concern. "I do believe your mongrel is off its leash. You should exercise more caution lest it escape and cause harm to my father's vassals."

The hawk's eyes flitted about as though searching for an explanation for Sesshoumaru's words. He muttered the appropriate 'yes, my lord' as Sesshoumaru departed. It took a moment for Fuyutoka to understand what must have happened to justify such a comment, and Sesshoumaru allowed himself a smile at the sound of the hawk's quickened stride towards the fire pits where he had left the _hanyou in the dirt_.

Kuroihi remained frozen until she saw the last flick of Sesshoumaru's mokomoko disappear inside. She waited a moment longer to be sure he was truly gone. Exactly what had just transpired was beyond her, and she was still shaken as she rose hesitantly to her feet to brush the dirt away from her clothes with trembling hands.

She could make out voices inside; Sesshoumaru's, she was sure, and…Fuyutoka's. Icy dread filled her belly as her ears perked and she caught the sound of the Overseer's hurried steps. She was halfway to the ground again as he emerged from inside.

His orange eyes flashed with rage at the prostrated hanyou. Kuroihi bit back a yelp when he buried his talon-like fingers in her hair, yanking her up again. She could barely make out his livid sputtering as he dragged her inside and down a darkened hallway where few ever went.

He gave her a toss as he released her to sink to her knees once more, voice low and sharp to berate her. Kuroihi kept her head down, ears flat in the expected display of shame, but she was still too rattled from her encounter with Sesshoumaru for Fuyutoka's scorn to reach her. His train of scolding paused when he realized it wasn't having its usual effect. His hand flashed out, claws biting into her tender ear as he twisted it between his fingers, and Kuroihi swallowed down another cry of pain. He certainly had her attention now.

"Don't ignore me, you worm," he hissed, "If you can't handle a close encounter with your betters, then maybe you shouldn't let yourself be seen." He twisted harder, and Kuroihi resisted the urge to bare her fangs. "This never happens again; do you understand?"

"Yes, honorable Overseer," She managed through gritted teeth.

Fuyutoka harrumphed as he shoved her to the floor. She kept her face pressed against the polished wood until he disappeared. Alone, she finally allowed herself a soft whine of pain as she stroked her bruised ear.

Kuroihi wanted this night to be over, but there were chores yet to be done before she could sequester away. She did her best to focus as she worked, trying to push the memory of her encounter with the General's son from her mind. But it clung as stubbornly as the memory of the frozen honey of his eyes. Her hackles rose in a flash of fearful paranoia at every sound or flit of shadow she didn't immediately recognize. She still felt the weight of his gaze upon her, felt the ghost of his suffocating jyaki pressing in.

Sesshoumaru was around every corner, she could swear; haunting her steps, waiting to pounce. The tangy hint of his venomous scent was everywhere, and it made the human part of her hysterical.

She was thoroughly flustered by the time she was able to flee to the tenuous safety of her quarters. It was little more than a closet in one of the old storage rooms where barely anyone went anymore, but it was a space of her own away from the others and she was thankful for it. The alternative was to bed in the common room with the rest of the female staff, which Fuyutoka had been adamantly against. For him, it was bad enough that even a few servants were aware of her existence enough to heckle her; for Kuroihi, she could only imagine what they would do to her behind closed doors.

Kuroihi finally began to calm as she settled onto her makeshift futon, pressing into the darkness of her small space. The room beyond was bathed in the moonlight spilling through the window on the far wall, and it illuminated the wood frame of the closet's paper door. Any movement in the room would cast a shadow against those paper squares; she would see them long before they saw her. As she waited for sleep to take her, Kuroihi allowed her thoughts to wander.

More so now than ever before, her mind turned to escaping this place as she suspected Sesshoumaru's attention would be lethal. She had absolutely no intention of dying here where she was treated, at best, as an annoying footnote. She wanted more for her life than gruel to eat and ruined textiles to sleep on. She wanted the freedom to choose her own path, pursue her own interests, to exist beyond what fate had forced upon her at birth.

A life beyond these walls… How she longed for it.

Escape would not be simple, she knew, for one could not easily slip the notice of Fuyutoka or the noses of the pure-blooded demons that comprised the staff. The way she managed to sneak in and out of the castle on her days of rest was miraculous enough. When she was noted to be missing outside that allotted timeframe, she had no doubt that she would be hunted on principle. And, over and above the usual attentiveness of the guards, there was Sesshoumaru's recent knowledge of her very existence to consider. She knew she had not a chance in hell if _he_ was the one to give chase.

She prayed with all her heart that Sesshoumaru would simply forget about her. How captivating could a mere hanyou truly be to the likes of him anyway? It wasn't as though he had seen- Her thoughts screeched to a halt, panic creeping painfully into her chest.

Had he seen it; her black fire? She considered the timing of his arrival, recalled how she hadn't sensed him at all until after her work was finished. It was completely possible he had been watching from afar. No, she was certain of it. He _had_ seen, and now he knew.

And she was fucked.

* * *

Sesshoumaru woke early the following morning. His dreams had been filled with battlefield victories and they left him in an affable mood. It was not uncommon for him to rise before most of the other denizens of the castle-base and, thus he was unsurprised to find his attendant Kazawa kneeling outside his quarters.

"Tea," he commanded from his futon just loud enough to be heard and Kazawa rose wordlessly to comply with his master's desire.

While he waited for his servant's return, Sesshoumaru stretched languidly and shrugged into a simple yukata. By the time Kazawa arrived with a tray of tea and Aoki in tow, Sesshoumaru had settled on his zabuton. Before him, the male Kazawa served his tea and delivered the news of the morning; behind him, the female Aoki drew a comb carefully through his silvery locks. All was as it should be for the moment.

Sesshoumaru was not attached to the pair, but there was something to be said for the fact that they were the only two in his montage of servants to not succumb to their own weaknesses and flee from him. Kazawa and Aoki understood their places and willingly submitted to them. They did not argue or fuss, they did not complain or dally or contrive excuses. Sesshoumaru found them as agreeable as one could find their underlings.

He sipped his tea as Kazawa finished reporting on the prospective weather for the day; overcast and chilled from the approaching rain. He was pleased to find that nothing of any particular importance required his attention, for his mind was already wandering back to his encounter the night before with the half-demon creature.

_'Any minor power a hanyou possesses can be traced back to its youkai parent.'_ he thought. ' _Surely this one is recorded somewhere in father's collection of notable family lines.'_

It did not take long for Kazawa to acquire permission from the General on Sesshoumaru's behalf to examine those scrolls. The young daiyoukai spent the better part of the day sifting through them. He'd read over them before as a matter of practical interest but found himself frustrated this time. He discovered nothing about the black fire he'd seen the half-breed produce. There were several families that had fire-dependent abilities, the usual records of Kitsune and their fox magics, even a few dragon lines, but none of their flames were noted to be black.

He moved on to the scrolls the General had brought home from one of his trips to the continent across the ocean, but was similarly frustrated. The characters he found were familiar to him since his native language used them as well, but their arrangements were foreign and so their meanings were unintelligible. Even when he managed to find in those reading something akin to 'black fire', he could make out nothing else.

Sesshoumaru knew his father could read these, but asking him to translate them without significant cause would raise suspicion. He was not willing to confess, even to himself, his unseemly curiosity for the half-demon creature. He would have to approach this from a different angle. With a plan in mind, he sought out the Inu no Taishou personally.

He explored the usual areas his father could be found this time of day, but to no avail. He stepped onto one of the decks that stretched out from the third floor of the central castle tower but did not find his father anywhere in sight within the grounds. He would simply have to wait for the General's return. As he stepped back inside the castle, he dissected the myriad of scents that surrounded him in his usual habit and discovered something curious.

Intertwined with it all-silk, bamboo, lacquer, youki-was something molten, something rich; something…hanyou.

He blinked as he realized it was a scent that had existed in this place for quite some time and that he had simply been overlooking. Strange, for he was usually quite perceptive about these things. He forced himself to turn his focus to other, more constructive endeavors before his thoughts ran away with him. It was only a half-breed, after all, and it wasn't as though the thing would be leaving anytime soon. He could parse the scent further another time.

As he went about the rest of his waning afternoon, however, he found his thoughts returning to the creature. Hints of that molten scent cropped up everywhere, passing almost as soon as his nose detected them and leaving no hint as to where they had come from. It was all around him, and yet nowhere at all, and it was becoming irksome. Every instance brought to mind the scene from the previous night, and by the time he had settled into a game of shougi with the Warmaster around sunset, he was thoroughly distracted.

Finally, he stopped trying to fight his insistent curiosity. Surely, his father's companion knew something of use in respect to the half-demon. He would do just as well as the general himself.

"Rekkonji," Sesshoumaru said, addressing the elder demon seated across from him.

The jackal halted his consideration of the board and gave the young daiyoukai his attention. "Lord Sesshoumaru?"

"Where is my honored father?"

Rekkonji snorted a laugh and muttered for a moment before answering. "Brutish, as always… The Inu no Taishou has taken the day to secure the lands surrounding the base. He will return after the moon has risen for the evening."

"I see. Then _you_ will answer my questions in his stead," Sesshoumaru declared with all the authority of his father's position and all the arrogance of his own.

Rekkonji's brow twitched perceptively with irritation at being spoken to in such a manner by this pup, but he straightened his already rigid posture and gave the overly-entitled prince the respectful nod that was expected. "It is an honor to be of service to my lord's heir."

_'Simpering bastard_ ,' Sesshoumaru thought. "Tell me what you know concerning demons that control fire."

"Does your honorable self mean to inquire about fire sprites or beings more similar to the Kitsune?"

Sesshoumaru considered for a moment. "Similar to that Panther wench I found on the battlefield; Karan. Those that can call up and manipulate flames at will."

Rekkonji similarly took a moment to consider and nodded approvingly. "Generally, such abilities run in a demon's family. Where Karan specifically is concerned, it is not uncommon to see lines of greater demons such as hers with no specializations spawn elemental foci. If you recall, her sisters controlled ice and flowers, and their brother channeled the power of lightning."

"Indeed, I do," Sesshoumaru said dismissively, refusing to let the Warmaster derail the conversation. "The wench's fire held no unique traits and was a natural hue; quite unlike the fire of foxes, which is teal and capable of multiple feats. Do other such variations exist?"

"The world is filled with an incomprehensible array of creatures and abilities; it is quite possible, your lordship." There was a finality in Rekkonji's tone which indicated he had no interest in continuing along this line of questioning.

"I have previously encountered a flame-like skill that froze its victims instead of burning them. This one was blue in color. It would seem the hue of a flame is an indication of its traits." Sesshoumaru's tone trailed off as he attempted to bait the Warmaster into further discussion.

Rekkonji gave a disinterested nod. Sesshoumaru decided then that he did not need the Warmaster to participate in the conversation directly. He would be able to discern the answers he sought from the jackal's body language. Sesshoumaru plucked up one of the small wood tiles he had captured from the jackal, stroking the stark black character on its face that read 'knight' with a clawed thumb.

"If such is the case, would it not be interesting to encounter a being that wielded, perhaps, flames of a more unnatural hue," Sesshoumaru said. Rekkonji hummed noncommittally, which encouraged the younger daiyoukai to continue. "Perhaps green, or purple, or black? What fantastic abilities might those have, do you think?"

Upon hearing the word 'black', the Warmaster's reaction was immediate, his shoulders tightening involuntarily, and Sesshoumaru withheld a smirk. Rekkonji's dark eyes, touched with red, narrowed slightly at the aloof young male that reached forward gracefully with two poised fingers to slide a tile across the board.

"Black, your highness?" Rekkonji asked warily.

"Yes," Sesshoumaru said airily, as though he did not notice the jackal's response. "What sort of creature would it be, to possess such a unique power, do you think?"

Rekkonji's eyes narrowed as he stared the young daiyoukai down. "If your lordship will allow me, I would suggest that perhaps the desire to encounter and defeat both powerful and interesting opponents has driven your imagination away from the strictures of reality."

It was Sesshoumaru's turn to fix the jackal with a darkened gaze. His tone remained disturbingly even. "Would you now… Are you not the one who speaks on considering all possibilities in life, as to be better prepared for any challenge that may arise?"

"When there is evidence for such a possibility, yes. Respectfully, my advice is not to be taken as an excuse to be nonsensical." Rekkonji's gaze did not shift as he slid one of the wood tiles across the board. "You are in check, my prince."

The two males held each other's gaze for a tense moment before simultaneously glancing down at the board. Sesshoumaru had no interest in this silly game now, and he flipped his king piece over in defeat before rising to depart without excusing himself. He did not see the way Rekkonji narrowed his deep ruby eyes suspiciously again at his back as he turned a tile over and over through his fingers.

_'He knows something.'_ Sesshoumaru thought as he passed through the halls. ' _That bastard knows something and is refusing to divulge it.'_

There was little else he despised more in this life than being refused.

The Warmaster's responses had only served to increase the young demon's curiosity about the black fire he had seen the hanyou make, but asking the Warmaster had obviously been a mistake, and asking his father would be fruitless now. The young daiyoukai had learned early on that both elder males had similar opinions on what knowledge to share with -or to keep from- Sesshoumaru once he questioned either of them. He would only receive a similar answer from the General on the matter at this point. Sesshoumaru cursed. Why did they have to be so difficult? Did they think him too young? Too naïve? Or was it, in this case, that the truth surrounding those dark flames was truly so momentous? Yes… That had to be it. He decided then and there that he would discover it for himself, by himself, and he knew exactly the manner in which he would go about it.

His father and the Warmaster never need know.


	4. Chapter 3: The Last Servant

_Head down. Hug the shadows. Don't be seen, don't be heard._

Kuroihi ran through her mantra every morning, and following her encounter with the General's son, every afternoon and evening, too. So long as she wasn't noticed, she would fade from his memory, or at least, that's what she hoped. It helped that Fuyutoka had given her assignments that kept her in the bowels of the castle-base away from the others. Here, she had easy access to the crawlspaces beneath the tatami mats so she could sneak into one of the empty rooms whenever she needed a bit a fresh air. No one saw, no one knew; or, so she hoped.

A week passed, and there was nothing. No increased scolding from the Overseer, and neither hide nor hair of the general's son. Another week passed, and still nothing. Kuroihi began to relax. Slowly, the looming nightmare of her evening encounter with Sesshoumaru faded into little more than a shadow in the back of her mind.

The third week passed. The moon was waxing half-full; it was her day of rest, and of weakness. As the horizon lightened to indigo and the stars began to fade, Kuroihi sneaked out of the castle in her usual manner. Already, her demon powers were receding.

The sublevel pathways under the castle-base took her unnoticed to one of the yagura towers that stood in the corner of the grounds. Hidden in the neglected weeds at the foot of the wall was a removable grate. The opening was just wide enough for her to wiggle through without notice, so long as she timed it when the guards weren't looking. Their attention was always lax this time of morning, and it was a matter of patience and care for her to make her way through the thick grove just beyond the wall and into the cover of the wilds beyond it.

Kuroihi followed her usual path along the river that led even further from the castle-base. Along the way, she plucked twigs and yellow grass for kindling as well as stinkweeds to help mask her scent from the wayward lesser demons in the area. Around the bend, the river passed near a bamboo thicket. Kuroihi checked again to ensure she wasn't being watched or followed before ducking into its protective grasp. Knowing exactly where it was, she easily found her usual cave and got to work.

The Indigo sky bled pastels; her demon powers were on the precipice of torpor. Her senses were dulling and her strength was leaving her: she didn't have much time left. She struck up a fire with a bit of flint and began feeding it the kindling and stinkweeds she'd collected to cover not only her hanyou scent, but her emerging human one. Kuroihi still didn't know or truly understand why or how this transformation took place, but every month on the same day, here she was.

As the sun broke the horizon, her change began.

Inky black spilled over ivory locks and yellow eyes, claws and fangs shrank away to flimsy nails and rounded teeth, and her ears shivered and crawled down to form human ones. Her body softened, reflexes slowed, and, last but not least, her inner pool of youki sealed away as her demon soul drifted into sleep.

She was mortal now, and would remain so until the sun set again.

Slowly, her human nature rose to the fore and with it came a maelstrom of emotions she was usually able to ignore. Without her demonic constitution, however, they all but overwhelmed her. Rage, desire, hatred, despair: her human heart flitted from one to the other so quickly that she could barely keep up. In the end, she did what she always did to keep from screaming with the frustration of it all; she allowed herself to cry.

It was the only reprieve she had in this life. As repulsive as it was, she indulged in it this one day out of the month and purged herself of her anger towards the demons at the castle. She couldn't — wouldn't — forgive them for the misery they caused her, but she could control how she reacted to it. And she refused to focus on it any longer than she had to. Instead, she allowed her thoughts to eventually shift to the only shred of happiness she had in her life: Somewhere out there, she had a family.

She hoped that they loved and missed her; that they worried about her, but it was more fantasy than memory. The castle was all she could remember now. In fact, she couldn't even recall how she'd come to be there. It hadn't been pleasant, that much she was sure of as the thought of it always made her heart ache. Something inside warned her that she was better off not knowing, but she couldn't help wondering…

She passed the day this way, refusing to sleep and never emerging from her protective cavern. Once her fingertips began tingling, she knew it was time. A quick glance outside confirmed that the sun was finally setting. Her veins burned, her body flushed with a special heat as her demon soul raged to life again to return her former strength and appearance. Fighting through the nauseating stench from the weeds, she cleared away every trace she could that she had ever been here.

Except for the back wall.

There, she placed a small mark with charcoal in a broad panorama of tallies before leaving. Sunburst patterns covered the wall. It was a design she'd found on a scrap of parchment tucked into her yukata sleeve when she was just a pup. It meant something she was sure, but what it was she did not know. Regardless, she safeguarded the tiny bit of yellowing paper. It was the only proof she had that she'd ever existed outside the castle.

An ensemble of crickets and cicada echoed across the fields as she began her trek home. Timing her re-entry to the grounds was always the most precarious part. Somehow, she managed it time and time again.

Save for the guards, the castle was asleep as she made her way carefully back into the sub-level of the yagura and across into the main tower. She remained alert and on edge even once she'd arrived safely back in her closet. There was always the risk that she had been seen this time. As the minutes ticked by, the knot in her stomach slowly released and she was able to fall asleep.

* * *

Sesshoumaru could not help but notice in the days following his conversation with the Warmaster that two additional contingents of scouts had been dispatched. To where, he did not know. With his father's and Rekkonji's attention turned outside the castle-base once again, Sesshoumaru had free reign and this coincided perfectly with the plan he was forming.

His conversation with Rekkonji had confirmed that if he wanted to discover the truth behind the hanyou's strange fire, he would have to act on his own. He could not simply ask, for that would be obvious and unbecoming for one of his rank. But it was clear that the two elder demons would not tell him what he wanted to know; the insufferable bastards.

Instead, Sesshoumaru decided to take advantage of his own savage reputation to get what he wanted this time. It was a crude strategy, but an effective one, and at the end of the day that was what truly mattered to him; effectiveness.

Eyes closed with relative calm, Sesshoumaru mulled through the details of his plan as Aoki picked through his hair with a comb. He was currently in possession of three retainers: Aoki, Kazawa, and Ide. It was a satisfactory count for any lord. In order for his plan to work, however, he needed to be rid of one. Kazawa was too experienced and aware of Sesshoumaru's desires to be released. Aoki was too attentive to detail to simply cast to the wind. That left Ide; relatively new and naïve Ide. Sesshoumaru opened his eyes and settled them on the unfortunate vassal.

No, not a vassal: his next victim.

The thought twisted maliciously at Sesshoumaru's lips, and both Aoki and Kazawa understood the expression: it meant there would be violence and suffering in the near future. In the following days as Sesshoumaru began needling and degrading Ide more than usual, they had the good sense to recognize that the young daiyoukai was in one of his fits again and kept their heads down. Having no desire to draw any of that ire to themselves, they instead fixated excruciatingly on every minor detail of their duties. They offered Ide no sympathy or solace, for it was well understood that once Sesshoumaru had chosen his prey, that particular creature was lost to all hope.

It took a mere two weeks of Sesshoumaru's focused abuse to send the younger demon groveling to Fuyutoka for reassignment. With Ide gone, Sesshoumaru turned his attention to the rest of the staff. Any servant that had been at the castle for more than a few years was aware of the prince's frequent bouts of ridicule and maltreatment. Sesshoumaru allowed himself to fall into another of these bouts, knowing full well that his father would scold him when he noticed, but that did not concern him for the moment.

It appeared that Sesshoumaru had the staff well-trained, for it only took three tormented servants to cause the others to flee at the very thought of him. It was precisely the reaction Sesshoumaru desired and expected. Once he was certain the entire servant body was thoroughly terrified of him once again, he enacted the next step of his plan.

On a breezy afternoon, a little over a month following his return from the battlefield with his father, Sesshoumaru approached the Overseer. Fuyutoka was less than pleased to see the young daiyoukai that had been terrorizing his underlings, but he gave the expected bow and respectful greeting nonetheless. Even as he maintained a humble and servile demeanor, Sesshoumaru could tell Fuyutoka had many unsightly words for him unspoken but in his mind.

"How may your humble vassal be of service to you this afternoon, my lord?" Fuyutoka inquired.

Sesshoumaru withheld a sneer. The hawk always groveled in the most disgusting manner. "I find myself in need of a new retainer, Overseer. I want it by dawn."

Fuyutoka blinked. "My…lord?"

Sesshoumaru's delicate brow twitched with irritation. "Did you not hear me? Or is it rather you did not understand? I will say it only once more: I want another retainer by morning."

The prince's snark was almost more than he could take and it was Fuyutoka's turn to withhold a sneer. He knew letting such an expression show would mean invoking the Prince's ire on himself. "I understood your honorable self well enough, Sire, however I find myself unable to agree to something that might not be possible."

"Not possible, you say? Explain." Knowing full well 'why', Sesshoumaru tucked his arms neatly into his sleeves as Fuyutoka licked his lips and gathered his words.

"Through the years, every available servant has been employed to your pleasure and found wanting, save for the two you still currently possess. It would be a grievous oversight for me to assign one that is known to be unsatisfactory." *

"You are saying there is not a single obliging creature in this base that has not served under this Sesshoumaru?" *

"None are left who are worthy, my lord." *

The young prince clenched his fists at his sides and narrowed his eyes. "I will be the one to determine whether or not one is worthy to attend me. Am I understood?" He cut off the Overseer's response. "Good. You have your command, then."

Fuyutoka was left flustering over how to fulfill the request as his lord departed without another word.

Sesshoumaru was well aware that, with the dismissal of Ide, every available servant at the castle had been his at one point or another. The Overseer's response had been technically correct, but it omitted the underlying truth which would violate decorum if spoken aloud: none were _willing_ to serve under Sesshoumaru and his violent temper again, and the dedication of his father's vassals could only be strained so far.

Truly, he could not blame the cretins as even he knew he was formidable in every way, but he still expected his father's chosen vassals to possess a bit more tenacity. After all, what were a few burns and scrapes in the grand scheme of things, really?

* * *

Fuyutoka considered the options before him carefully. He could be appropriately obliging and put in the extra effort it would take to quickly summon a suitable demon from one of the general's protectorates to serve as a new attendant at the castle. He could exchange a favor owed to him by Rekkonji to transfer one of the lesser fighters to the servant ranks. Or, he could take advantage of the situation to give that arrogant heritor a piece of his mind—politely of course—and assign him the half-breed. The more he thought it over, the more attractive the last option became.

There would scarcely be a better and safer way to express his disdain for Sesshoumaru's behavior. And, with any luck, the hanyou would end up being one of his attendants that disappeared mysteriously. Even if Sesshoumaru spurned her and she came groveling back to him, Fuyutoka would finally have grounds to turn her out. The General had not allowed the Overseer to expel her from the castle for reasons only the General understood, and Fuyutoka dreamed of the day he would finally be allowed to. Keeping her hidden for the past century-and-a-half had taken more energy than he was willing to waste on such a creature, and he was quite fed up with the task.

_'Yes, this will do nicely indeed.'_ He thought as he tracked her down. She was exactly where he'd left her in the sublevels of the castle base, attempting to salvage what she could from a stack of ruined tatami mats. The very sight of her was enough to make him grimace, and he put forth little effort in obfuscating it as she slid to her knees and muttered through the usual respectful greeting.

"Come with me," was all he said.

He didn't need to glance back to know she was shuffling along behind him as he made his way up to the higher levels. Avoiding the primary hallways, he meandered into one of the supply rooms and began searching through its closets. The shelves were piled high with the colorful garb of the higher-ranking servants, folded and pressed neatly into flat squares. Kuroihi had been in this room many times before, but never in the closets. She quietly drank in the crisp, clean scent of pressed cotton and silk, relishing the fleeting moment of perfect tranquility it brought her.

"Hands," Fuyutoka snapped and Kuroihi lifted her flattened palms to receive the assortment of clothing he plopped into her grasp. "You're being reassigned tomorrow morning. Go bathe and change; and I mean a real bath with water. Licking yourself doesn't count."

Kuroihi gritted her teeth for a moment before muttering. "Yes, Overseer."

She paused at the door as she realized he hadn't actually told her where she was being reassigned to. She gave the kimono and hakama in her hands a cursory glance, her stomach filling with ice: he hadn't told her because it was unnecessary.

The clothing he'd given her was slate grey.

* * *

With the proper timing, Kuroihi was able to secure one of the two bathing rooms for herself. Generally, bathing was a communal activity, and it was common to see several servants sharing the hot water. She, however, was not truly part of the castle community, and thus bathed alone. Each room had slated windows to allow steam to escape and the room to dry after use. The floors, walls, and doors were made of sealed wood to help resist the moisture. The tub itself was made of the same wood as the rest of the room, and was set deep into the floor so the occupants could immerse themselves up to their shoulders. A simple pipe system fed water from the reservoir outside into the tub, where it was heated by the fire below the floor. Separate from that was the actual washing area, which was a rectangular space set a few inches into the floor and was supplied with cold water in the same manner as the tub. Both areas were furnished with drains where needed. In the corner near that washing area, several sets of low stools and broad, shallow buckets for rinsing were neatly stacked, awaiting use. Soap and any luxury items such as oils weren't stored here, instead provided by each demon as desired.

Kuroihi ensured the room and its items were in order before securing the latch to the door, not wanting to be stumbled upon. Out of habit she also closed the window slats, darkening the room substantially, but not to the point that she could not see well enough to bathe. She stripped, gathered her soap as well as a stool to sit on as she washed and a bucket to rinse, and settled near one of the spigots. She was about to fill the bucket with the cold water when a thought struck her.

Lord Sesshoumaru's servants… they were always well dressed, with neat hair and clear skin, and Kuroihi was sure Sesshoumaru would expect the same from her. She would never achieve such a stately appearance, though; at least, not in this light. Slowly, she glanced up at the closed windows. So far, the dim and darkness had been her only friends, obfuscating her indecent existence from everyone, including herself. But, perhaps, just this once, it was alright… She rose and moved toward the windows. She reached hesitantly for the connected bar that would open the slats, and heard Fuyutoka's years of castigation echoing in the back of her mind in warning her against this.

Fuyutoka or Lord Sesshoumaru… Whose displeasure did she fear more?

After a moment of consideration, the answer became clear. Kuroihi licked her lips, held her breath, and pulled. Light spilled into the room and she tensed instinctually for the scolding that…did not come. She stood with her hand on the slats, frozen, counting off the passing moments with the rapid beating of her heart. Still, nothing. She relaxed gradually, making her way back over to her stool and bucket. She watched it fill with the cold water, slowly feeling less that she was violating some taboo and more that she was taking an appropriate step. She should grow accustomed to being in the light as soon as possible so that the sudden exposure did not impact her performance and anger her new master, right? Despite this, she flinched at every sound she made or thought she heard outside, certain that Fuyutoka's livid tones could be heard somewhere in the distance.

As Kuroihi scrubbed and rinsed, she took the time to actually examine herself. There were darkened marks all over her body, most of which were washed away, nothing more than dirt. She did have a few healing scars here and there from Fuyutoka's recent admonishments, but they were shallow and would fade in another week. Her limbs were long and lean, almost willowy from years of insufficient nourishment, and she lacked the rounded shaping indicative of a mature female. This along with her narrow wrists, lacking muscle mass and long, ratty white hair, left her with a renewed sense of insignificance. Her eyes, though -slit and yellow and wild-, and her ears-white with black tufted tips like a lynx-, she found were acceptable. As was the elegant sweep of her brow and curve of her nose. She'd made a habit of avoiding her reflection in the past, but now that she allowed herself to examine it, she found she was not as unattractive as Fuyutoka would have her believe. She tucked this minor revelation away for later use.

Scrubbed, dry, and as prepared as she ever would be, Kuroihi unfolded and examined her new clothes. The hems were in good repair, and the collar of her kimono and the pleats of her hakama were crisp and straight. Each piece was clean and lacking any stains, and she marveled at the softness of the cloth as she ran her fingers across one of the sleeves. That color, though… She could not look past the color; dark slate grey like relentless summer storm clouds pregnant with wrath and savagery; Lord Sesshoumaru's grey. Ice filled her stomach as that reality struck her again, and she fought to gulp down her growing fear and panic. She knew well the rumors of the young prince and his behavior, how he had left his mark of displeasure on each and every denizen of the base at one point or another and driven off nearly every attendant with his scorn and torment. Such a demon would be, as of morning, her immediate lord and master.

The implications settled heavily on her shoulders and limbs, weighing her down until she was on her knees, curled into herself with hands clasped in a motion of prayer at her forehead. As she whimpered, she silently begged whatever ancestor-gods that watched over her to grant her strength, fortitude, and patience in the coming days.

Even the gods knew Sesshoumaru was ruthless. There would be no excuse for failure.


	5. Chapter 4: Inceptive

Kazawa mirrored Aoki as she stifled a yawn. The first silvery rays of dawn were spilling into the kitchens through the slatted windowpanes, playing off the morning fires and bathing the walls in foreboding crimson shades.

The servants chatted idly as they waited for the morning water to boil. Some of them were clad in the lighter colors and basic lined patterns of the younger or less experienced staff; others in darker shades with the circular patterns of the veterans. An elegantly poised trio bore the floral and marigold uniforms indicative of the general's attendants, and they were offered the first batch of tea for the morning when it was ready. Aoki and Kazawa claimed the next batch for Sesshoumaru before wishing their colleagues well and departing the kitchens.

Aoki stifled another yawn as she trailed along behind Kazawa, tray in hand, the pair making their way to Sesshoumaru's wing of the castle-base. She began to complain about her lack of sleep the night before when Kazawa paused suddenly, and Aoki nearly ran into him.

"What—" She began angrily.

"Look," he said quietly, motioning to a figure further down the hall.

Aoki peered around her fellow servant. "Who is that?"

"Never seen them before, but… they're in gray." His tone was disbelieving. Usually, Fuyutoka would alert either himself or Aoki when a new attendant was assigned to Sesshoumaru, but the clueless shrug from Aoki told him she hadn't been informed about this new addition either. From here, neither of them could discern a gender.

"Are those… ears? On top of their head?" She muttered quietly.

Kazawa sneered. "Looks like it… Are the rumors true, then, that a half-breed serves here?"

"It appears that way, and now they're with us." Aoki blinked, then groaned. "Ugh, we're going to have to talk to them, aren't we?"

Kazawa thought for a moment before turning to take the tray of tea from Aoki with a passive smile. "What 'we'?"

Aoki fixed him with a lethal expression as he continued down the hall without as much as a glance at either of the females. She would get him back for this later, she swore she would.

* * *

Kuroihi watched the two servants in slate grey pause at the end of the hall, muttering to each other. She had heard their names from Fuyutoka before in reference to Sesshoumaru's longest-standing attendants, but had never encountered them. Which was Aoki, and which was Kazawa? Her uncertainty set her on edge, and she hid her hands in her sleeves to scrape a claw across the pad of her thumb as she waited for them to come closer.

The male, whose hair was dark and short and had purple eyes, passed without a word and disappeared down another hall. The abandoned female suppressed a grimace as she approached and appraised Kuroihi with her shock blue eyes. Kuroihi's ears flattened into her hair of their own accord, as though ashamed of being seen.

"What do we have here?" The female said, her voice acrimonious and sing-song.

Kuroihi bowed respectfully to introduce herself. "I… My name is Kuroihi. I was ordered by the honorable Overseer to begin work this morning as Lord Sesshoumaru's attendant. I promise to work hard."

The female's lips curled as she snickered, cynical. "Oh, I'm sure you do, little half-breed. Tch... What is he thinking, assigning a thing like you to Lord Sesshoumaru?" Her question was rhetorical.

Kuroihi bowed lower to emphasize her sincerity, as though it would help justify her presence, but in truth she was asking herself the same thing. She licked her lips nervously before speaking again. "Are… May I presume that you are…Aoki-san?"

The female snickered and she set a hand on her hip. Ide she had warned in the beginning to avoid all presumption where Sesshoumaru was concerned, but she chose to keep that little secret to herself today. "Yes, I am Aoki, and that was Kazawa. Lord Sesshoumaru demands punctuality and perfection, and that is all you need to know." She said with a tone of finality, ensuring she would not be questioned further. She tugged Kuroihi's sleeve to make her stand straight, turning her this way and that to give her attire closer inspection. "At least your collar is straight. Keep up, hanyou, and keep your mouth shut."

Aoki released her and padded quickly down the hallway after Kazawa. Kuroihi nodded and fell into step behind Aoki, struggling to silence the rustling of her billowing hakama as she walked.

Aoki glowered back at her and snapped. "Can't you keep quiet?"

Kuroihi muttered an apology, adjusting her stride, but to no avail. Aoki shot her several more dirty glances before they reached the end of the hall where Kazawa had disappeared, finally stopping to address the issue directly. With her precise, albeit begrudging, guidance, Kuroihi was able to achieve a mostly silent stride. She felt like she was waddling, but it wasn't so uncomfortable that she couldn't get used to it.

Finally, they reached the end of the hall and Aoki led Kuroihi around the corner to the left and down the length of another, broader hallway that ended at a set of painted shouji doors, marking the entrance to Lord Sesshoumaru's wing. Kuroihi supposed that Kazawa had already passed through them, as he was nowhere to be seen. The panels formed a beautiful panorama of twisted pine bonsai trees dipping and rising through a swell of peach-colored clouds, but she did not have time to examine them as closely as she would have liked. Aoki slid one of the doors open, ushered Kuroihi inside, and closed it behind her. They'd entered yet another hallway, but this one ran to the left and right along the length of the castle and was perhaps three meters wide. It was dark here, with only the light of a few oil lamps mounted to the walls offering any illumination. The varying tones along the walls told Kuroihi there were several paper doors on either side of her, leading perhaps to storage rooms or closets, but they were closed and plain, with no indication of what was behind them.

Across the hall directly in front of the two females was another set of decorated shouji doors, and something about them riled Kuroihi's defensive instincts. These were off-white with alternating bands of fuchsia, cobalt, and gray cutting diagonally across the bottom right corner. Judging from the mismatched edges of the pattern and the inconsistency of the colors, Kuroihi supposed a few of them were replacements for ones that had been damaged over the years. She had assisted in constructing replacement panels such as these in the past, but none had been painted like this. In fact, now that she thought about it, she could not recall ever having been ordered to tend to anything for the young prince. The General, Warmaster, or Overseer? Yes, on occasion. But never Sesshoumaru…

Aoki's sharp tones brought her attention back to the present. "Wait here."

Kuroihi watched the other female cross the width of the hall and kneel at the darker shouji doors, placing her hand on the frame. A moment later, Sesshoumaru's voice commanded her to 'enter'. The icy tones sent chills down Kuroihi's spine, and as Aoki let her alone in the hall, she could swear the darkness was pressing in on her. Paranoia edged into her mind, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself for protection. Beyond the paper doors, she could hear voices, and she gladly gave in to the distraction. She glanced around quickly to ensure she was truly alone before creeping closer to the door, ears perking so she could hear more clearly. Hopefully, she could overhear something of use. She knew it was considered supremely rude to eavesdrop, but at the moment she was willing to risk the punishment for it.

Inside, Aoki spoke respectfully. "My lord, the Overseer has sent a replacement for Ide."

Sesshoumaru's voice was cool and airy. "Indeed? Where are they, then? Have they not the good sense to present themselves in a timely manner to their new master?"

Aoki hesitated before speaking again. "Sire, they are… That is to say, one of the lesser servants has been employed by mistake; a half-demon." More silence, then Aoki's hurried voice. "Please, my lord, allow me to rectify what is clearly an oversight and send them—" She fell quiet.

Kuroihi could only imagine the look on Lord Sesshoumaru's face in that moment, one that stole Aoki's voice away. The brief moment of silence that followed was heavy, pregnant with foreboding, and Kuroihi held her breath.

"Come," Sesshoumaru said, and Kuroihi flinched. His soft voice had been raised only enough to be heard clearly beyond the paper door, but to her, it may as well have been a gong. She swallowed her bile-like trepidation, steeled her nerves, and reached for the wood frame.

Sesshoumaru watched with satisfaction as the creature slipped inside his quarters, slid the door closed and knelt clumsily behind and to the side of Aoki. The older female tensed, no doubt waiting for his admonishment. He allowed her to wait as he took his time examining the half-demon, relishing the unease of them both.

The hanyou's scent told him it had been made to bathe, but the delicate hint of soap could not cover the aroma of deep anxiety it now exuded. The smell pleased him. Its visage gave the impression of something unkempt, hastily assembled, and he wondered exactly how much preparation Fuyutoka had put it through. Not enough, clearly. He had achieved his goal, however; the details could be tended to later.

For now, Sesshoumaru pursed his lips to feign the expected displeasure, his tone mocking. "A half-breed, indeed… How loathsome and cowardly the others must be to allow a creature such as this to display more gumption than themselves. I, for one, would be ashamed."

Aoki exchanged a quick nervous glance with Kazawa before speaking again, her voice weak. "My lord, if it pleases you, allow me to correct this oversight."

Sesshoumaru's lip quirked with contrived pity. "Come come, Aoki. The stray can be left for now. Tend to your own duties.."

The older female blinked for a moment, baffled, but rose with practiced grace to kneel behind Sesshoumaru. She took her time parting his hair into manageable sections, drew a comb from within her sleeve, and began picking it through the ivory tendrils. Her motions were excruciatingly calculated, so that she never touched anything other than the hair.

Left kneeling on her own and feeling rather exposed, Kuroihi focused on Aoki to distract herself from her own tension. Eventually, Kuroihi felt comfortable enough to let her gaze wander for just a moment here and there, and she slowly took in the layout of the room by quickly flicking her eyes to and fro. She had the distinct feeling, though, that she was able to do this without being seen only because she was being pointedly ignored.

Several feet in front of and perpendicular to her, Kazawa sat across from Sesshoumaru. The two males were facing one another, separated by a low, polished table that bore only a teacup. From where she sat, Kuroihi couldn't see the matching pot. The area they all sat in was several yards squared, surrounded by plain shouji screens that nearly scraped the ceiling, and it seemed to be the only area with tatami mats. There was nothing else to characterize the room or indicate its utility, and she supposed Sesshoumaru spent very little time here. The rest of the prince's quarters stretched the length of the hallway outside it and was floored in polished wood as far as Kuroihi could tell. The damp morning breeze reached her from beyond the screens, telling her that at least one wall of the quarters opened to the outside.

A soft sound from Aoki drew Kuroihi's attention back to the older female as she pulled away from the young daiyoukai. Sesshoumaru reached back to inspect the plait Aoki had twisted his hair into, and, showing no indication of either satisfaction or displeasure, rose smoothly to his feet, angled to leave. Kazawa moved to slide the door open for him before the thought had even occurred to Kuroihi, and the pair melted silently into the darkness of the hallway beyond.

Aoki waited until the two males were out of earshot before barking at Kuroihi to help her straighten the tatami room. The half-breed was stiff, legs almost numb as she tried to shift to her feet, and Aoki pursed her lips with clear disapproval. It was an expression Kuroihi was used to thankfully, and it did little to dissuade her as she worked. Padding along behind Aoki to return the tray of tea to the kitchens, she caught sight of the late morning sky. By now, a vivid blue had long replaced indigo and pastel, and Kuroihi realized they'd been in Sesshoumaru's quarters for quite some time. Had his hair truly taken so long to care for?

For the rest of the day, Kuroihi shadowed Aoki, assisting where she could with the older female's chores, and the next several days progressed in a similar manner. Kuroihi met the pair at the entrance to Sesshoumaru's wing, shadowed Aoki, and then snuck away to her own room at the end of the night.

Every day, Kuroihi silently questioned why she was even there. Aoki and Kazawa seemed perfectly capable of tending to Sesshoumaru's every desire, and she only seemed to be in the way; so why had Fuyutoka sent Kuroihi to him?

She would not have to wait long for her answer.

To Sesshoumaru's satisfaction, the half-breed proved itself acceptable enough as a servant to justify retaining it. It was clumsy and slow to act, but punctual and mostly dismissible. Were it not for its scent, he found he could quite forget the thing was even present. As the days passed, however, his patience for this game of propriety he was playing wore thin and, by the end of the week, he was fed up with it. He'd not manipulated the creature into his grasp to have it assist Aoki. The time had come to enact his true purpose.

As Aoki combed through his hair for the evening, he inspected the hanyou that knelt demurely nearby. Quiet and obliging, it would be a simple task to bend the thing to his will, to extract the knowledge he sought. He could then be rid of it in whatever manner he saw fit. The thought spawned a myriad of acrimonious ideas, curling his lips in his signature smirk.

The usually motionless hanyou shivered, ears flattening into its hair. Sesshoumaru blinked. Had it only now sensed his watching it? ' _What a dull creature…'_

He rose once Aoki finished, waving her off silently for the evening. She tucked the comb away again and bowed, the half-breed mirroring her, and both made for the door.

"Not you." He said sharply.

The two females paused, blinking between each other for a moment. Lips pursed, Aoki slid the door closed, leaving Sesshoumaru alone with the half-demon. He waited for Aoki's steps to fade into the distance before snapping his fingers at it. The half-breed flinched but fell into step behind him as he left the tatami room, passing through the rest of his dimmed quarters, and exiting onto the veranda that wrapped around his wing of the castle. Here, only a few meters separated the edge of the veranda and the wall of the base; a distance he easily covered in a single, graceful leap to pass over his garden and the wall, and land quietly in the grove beyond. Behind him, he could hear the creature scramble to scale the wall and race to catch up with him as he strolled leisurely into the wilds.

He watched the gold and crimson in the west give way to ultramarine, then black. A river of stars blinked to life one by one in a grand arch above him, providing light and navigational reference as he sought out the nearby pine forest. Darkness pressed in around him as he stepped into the thick of the trees, but it did not hinder his ability to see. He easily found and settled comfortably on a flat, raised rock in a small circle between the trees. The hanyou was several strides behind. It ducked its head submissively once it rejoined him, tufted ears perked attentively.

"Make a fire." He ordered, waiting impatiently as it worked. Once the flames were high enough, he commanded it again. "Make them black."

It lifted its head slightly, blinking in confusion. "My lord?"

"Do not play coy with me." He sneered, narrowing his eyes at it. "I have seen what you are capable of."

The hanyou's shoulders stiffened, face turning white and it dared to flick a glance in his direction. Sesshoumaru's narrowed eyes reflected the angry heat of the fire, his face cast in the dancing shadows it spawned. The hanyou swallowed audibly and ducked its head again as it sputtered.

"I… That is to say…" It motioned subtly to itself. "This one is not possessed of any notable talents."

"Is that so?" His tone was dangerously even. He inspected his claws, willing his poison into the tips to glow a noxious green. "In that case, I have no further use for a cretin like you."

Its yellow eyes fixed on his claws, panic written in its features. "I-I… My lord, please, I cannot—"

He quirked a brow expectantly.

"The Overseer, if he finds out—" It began, but he cut it off.

"Are you confessing, then? Or do you dare imply that this Sesshoumaru is subject to the condemnation and reprimands of a mere hawk?" He snarled with revulsion at the very idea that one as lowly as Fuyutoka could possibly hold any authority or influence over one such as himself.

The air was quickly perfumed with the scent of its terror, riling his inner predator and bringing him to his feet to loom over the creature. It recoiled, scrambling back on its hands for several feet, ears flattening into its hair.

"M-m-my lord, please!" It sputtered again, desperate to make him understand. "H-he will thrash me!"

Sesshoumaru was a blur of movement. He grasped the front of the creature's kimono with his non-venomous hand and dragged it to its feet. It ducked its head as he bared his fangs.

"That _bastard_ Fuyutoka is inconsequential now. You belong to _me_ , or is your simple mind incapable of grasping this concept?" He could not discern an answer from its whimpering. "Hear me well and understand, _hanyou_ : You. Are. _Mine_." He snarled. "My every whim and desire is the only purpose for your continued miserable existence."

This time, it managed to choke out a 'yes, my lord'. He released it to crumple into a trembling heap at his feet and strode leisurely back to his rock before settling himself comfortably again.

"The fire, servant," he reiterated sharply.

The creature shifted unsteadily to its hands and knees, crawling back to the small fire. The young prince sharpened his senses, watching as it slowly calmed and focused its youki into a hand. His patience was beginning to wear thin as it struggled, but then he caught a fresh wave of that rich molten scent. It managed to force a small amount of its energy forth, black seeping into the fire from its hand. With a little coaxing from the terrible daiyoukai, the fire became completely tainted. The black flames gave off a sinister light, thickening the shadows around him and radiating a searing, lava-like heat. In seconds, the small amount of wood in the circle was rendered to powdery ash.

"Again," Sesshoumaru said simply.

The creature hesitated.

"Make another fire and alter it," he clarified with annoyance.

It floundered for another moment, but obeyed him. It had soon constructed another fire within the circle of stones and was attempting to taint the flames as it had before. Sesshoumaru watched its meager pool of youki thrash and strain to focus into its hand again. Blackness feathered from its fingertips more slowly this time as the hanyou struggled, eventually tainting the flames to a similar end. He had it repeat this task over and over, watching its youki drain away to almost nothing.

Exhausted, it finally collapsed and Sesshoumaru allowed it a moment's rest as he contemplated. He knew for certain that this creature was nothing more than a miserable half-breed, disgraceful and ineffectual, and yet tonight he had watched it reliably display its talent on command. He surmised it had been capable of this for some time and that the Overseer did not approve of its use of the power. The honored General and Warmaster had also responded negatively to the idea of a creature able to produce this dark fire. Was there something proscribed about its origin? That thought paired with the memory of the Wamaster's reaction to the very mention of the fire only made it more enticing to Sesshoumaru.

He fixed his eyes on the drained half-demon. "For how long have you possessed this skill?" he inquired.

It fought to sit up on its knees before answering weakly. "For as long as I can remember, my lord."

 _'_ _It must have a notable origin, some powerful daiyoukai or other that this Sesshoumaru could challenge.'_ He thought greedily, _'I cannot imagine that such an ability would manifest so easily otherwise.'_ "From which parent did you inherit this?"

"I do not know." It responded, shame in its tone.

"You do not know?" His lip curled. "How can you not? Surely, you are at the very least acquainted with your dishonored lineage."

The half-breed's ears flattened, its speech continuing to convey its sense of shame. "My lord's servant remembers little of her short life before coming into service to his honorable father. All she knows is that both of her parents were also hanyou."

Sesshoumaru blinked, puzzled. Again, proof of the impossible sat before him. A half-breed born of half-breeds, gifted with power from the gods only knew where. His thoughts returned quickly enough to that power, and he continued his interrogation undeterred. "The black fire; has it always existed in this form?"

The creature spoke carefully, no doubt still considering the Overseer. "It…is more effective now than in previous years."

"Is its development dependent on practice or does it mature on its own?" Sesshoumaru smirked, knowing how the thing was still conscious of Fuyutoka's distain; the question was a trap.

The hanyou avoided it, answering quickly and definitively. "This one could not say, my lord." It would not so easily reveal how often it had employed its power without the Overseer's knowledge.

Sesshoumaru hummed with amusement. This subject was clearly something the creature avoided. "Is this the extent of its application?"

The hanyou shrank away from him, declining to answer, and he growled his disapproval. The General might be permitted to refuse this Sesshoumaru, but his servants most certainly were not.

It licked its lips, answering hesitantly. "If I focus, I can make it form without using an external fire. It takes a great amount of energy, and it is less consistent than simply influencing a flame that is already struck."

 _'How bizarre; that this thing may in fact be capable of growth.'_ He thought to himself, then commanded the creature before him. "Show me."

It hesitated again but did not refuse to answer him this time. "I have spent nearly all of my energy tonight, my lord, and the fire requires more than is left in reserve."

Sesshoumaru's lip curled, tone thick with derision. "Tell me, is it always your habit to abstain at the first sign of weakness, or is this perhaps a dilatory habit formed during your years under Fuyutoka's incompetent vigil?"

The creature bowed its head in a proper display of submission voice exampling its increasing weakness. "I will try."

Sesshoumaru drew up a knee to lay an arm across as he watched. The half-breed had not been insincere concerning its depleted youki. With hands cupped together as though catching rain, it fought to pool its remaining flickers of energy in its palms. Once or twice, its hands began to glow with the same dark light as the fire had, but it faded a moment later, leaving the half-breed even weaker than before. It became clear to him that the thing was incapable of acquiescing, and he lost interest in it for the night.

"Tch. How pathetic." He rose to his feet. "You bore me, hanyou."

It muttered a kowtowed apology, swaying with fatigue, and Sesshoumaru found he could not resist the temptation it presented. He flicked out his mokomoko as he strode past the thing, sprawling it into its proper place in the dirt. He didn't glance back as he made his way back to the castle-base, but he picked up on the deeply satisfying sounds of it struggling to crawl along behind him.


	6. Chapter 5: Sable

Kuroihi managed to pull herself from the dirt and onto her feet, stumbling hurriedly along after the retreating silhouette of her master. While she was confidant in her ability to find her way back to the castle-base on her own, she did not want to test the prince's anger by falling behind. He was faster than she, however, and Kuroihi found herself alone by the time she broke the tree line. Stepping out of the darkness of the forest and into the light of the moon felt as though she were escaping a cage, and the sensation invigorated her enough to hurry on her way home.

When she arrived, Kuroihi found Sesshoumaru wandering the finely tended grove beyond the walls. At first, he paid her no mind as she bowed and stood demurely behind him, keeping a wary distance between them. Sleep pulled heavily on her eyelids, and she swayed slightly. Sesshoumaru either did not notice or did not care, plucking a broad green leaf from a choice branch and twirling it between his fingers. His claws glowed bright venomous green, slowly dissolving the leaf in their noxious fumes as a slight smile pulled at his lips.

Was he trying to make a point? The calculating look he gave her convinced her that he was. The glint in his honey gold eyes set her on edge, chilling her to the bone and slicing through her fog of fatigue. Their interactions in the forest flashed through her mind, and she resisted the urge to retreat from him as her inner demon recoiled with fear.

"The events of this evening are not to be spoken of," He said. His voice was barely a whisper, and she had to strain her ears to hear him. "And you are forbidden from employing any of your meager demonic talents without my express command. Am I in anyway misunderstood?"

"Your servant understands completely, my lord," She replied, voice just as soft as his.

He hummed to himself for a moment, perhaps questioning her comprehension, before waving a hand to dismiss her. Kuroihi bowed once more and took her leave of him.

She slipped and ducked her way back inside the walls, through the halls, and into her tiny closet unseen. The look on Sesshoumaru's face was still etched in her mind as she stared at the shadows inside the storage room beyond the closet's paper door and flinched at every imagined shift. Eventually, weariness overcame paranoia and she slipped into a fitful sleep. She found no respite in that darkness, however; even her dreams were bedeviled by those wicked golden eyes.

Kuroihi woke feeling drained, barely managing to drag herself up and out to meet Kazawa and Aoki as was her habit. She was hesitant to leave the safety of her closet and attend the prince, but she knew it was a greater danger to incite his displeasure by being absent. Thankfully, Sesshoumaru did not single her out again that night, or for the next several nights. Slowly, her pool of youki replenished. On the night she found herself completely recovered, Sesshoumaru snapped at her to attend him beyond the castle walls. Kuroihi's nibbling paranoia rushed to the fore of her mind. He could sense her energy, she was sure of it, and had waited until she was recovered. He wanted something from her fire. She could find no other explanation for his actions. Why hadn't she anticipated this? And what was it he wanted? As she had come to expect, she could glean no insight from the stoic mask Lord Sesshoumaru wore as he led the way once again into the depths of the pine forest.

* * *

Sesshoumaru's eyes were dark in the humid gloom of the moonless summer night. Despite the lack of illumination, he was able to navigate his way easily to the same small clearing in the forest where he had examined the hanyou's power several nights earlier. The thing followed awkwardly along behind him, and he had lounged himself comfortably on the same flat rock as before by the time it caught up.

Unlike Sesshoumaru, Kuroihi's half-demon sight was impeded by the thick dark of the forest, and she had to depend on her other senses to find her way. His breathing and heart beat were imperceptible to her, but the tangy trail of his scent was impossible to miss. The air pressed in around her as she made her way through the trees, lifting to signal she had entered the clearing. She would have walked right into him, if not for the sudden flash of his eyes.

Red bled into the white, shining angry sanguine and honey gold in the darkness. Kuroihi recognized the reaction; it was what demons did when their feral natures began boiling to the surface. She quickly put several steps between them, bowing her head demurely.

The young daiyoukai contemplated the regrettable creature before him. ' _It cannot perceive me,'_ he thought. ' _Perhaps it is more dependent on its sight than I had originally considered. How disgustingly human-like... No matter.'_

"Make your fire," He commanded.

Kuroihi tensed. Her presumption had been correct. She feigned ignorance, though, kneeling to feel around for tinder and kindling to strike up a normal fire.

"No." Sesshoumaru snapped, and Kuroihi froze as he emphasized each word with his icy tone. "I instructed for you to make your _own_ fire, not 'a' fire. Are you incapable of differentiating?"

Kuroihi ducked her head, apologizing softly and brushing her hands clean. His glowing red eyes narrowed, piercing through her as she settled into a comfortable kneel. Her hair stood on end under such pointed observation, and she was painfully aware of her every minor twitch as she fought to keep herself still. One wrong move could incite him, and she was well aware that no one would question the disappearance of a mere half-demon. She held her hands cupped together at shoulder level and tried to urge her youki forth to form the flames, but Sesshoumaru's predatory fixation stole her focus. She had to ignore it, to ignore _him_.

_'_ _He might strike while I'm not looking, who knows what he's thinking?!'_ her panic whispered, but she forced herself to shake it off mentally. If she did not perform satisfactorily, the probability would instead become a guarantee.

Finally, heat rose in her veins and she urged her rising youki to pool in her palms. It seeped through her skin, coiling around her fingers and itching to ignite. Sweat beaded along her forehead as she struggled. Finally, a spark, and the dark flames engulfed her hands. Their sable light cast tenebrous shadows across her face and through the trees, making her yellow eyes sheen. The flames lasted only a moment or two before sputtering out.

Dropping her hands into her lap, Kuroihi panted softly from the strain. Through her bangs, she saw Sesshoumaru's red eyes glower at her, unimpressed.

"Again," he growled.

Kuroihi groaned internally. It had been difficult enough to conjure them the first time, and she'd never tried doing it twice in quick succession before. She had no idea if she would be able to, or how long they would last. Sesshoumaru tilted his head impatiently, a gesture she understood was dangerous for her, and it was clear that she had no choice but to try. Unsurprisingly, the attempt failed. Sesshoumaru blinked at her slowly, seeming bored.

"My lord, please, if I may only rest for a moment," She ventured cautiously.

He sneered at her. "This lacking constitution of yours is annoying. Though, what more can be expected from a mere half-breed?"

Something in the tone of his voice needled at her. Fuyutoka, the few other servants that saw her, even Aoki and Kazawa; their heckling and pointed exclusion she had grown to ignore. But Sesshoumaru's words cut right through her. She quickly squashed the rising irritation. It would do her no good here.

Kuroihi cupped her hands again and focused, scrounging up as much energy as she could. The sweat on her brow sizzled away in a rising heat she hardly felt. With great effort, the flames sparked to life. They danced for a few moments, flared, and then died again. She barely managed to keep from doubling over as she slowly caught her breath.

"Again," Sesshoumaru ordered, once her panting had calmed.

He watched the hanyou square its shoulders, bracing against the strain as it attempted to obey. His heightened senses observed the flow of its youki as it thrashed and fizzled, so quickly and ineffectually spent.

"Are you completely incapable of mitigating your energy?" Sesshoumaru jeered, watching the last whisps of the creature's youki pool in its hands as it continued to struggle. "Even a feeble creature such as yourself should be able to manage such an elementary skill."

A flare of irritation ignited the energy in Kuroihi's hands. The sable flames sparked for a final angry moment before burning out. Completely drained, she slumped over, trembling hands folded into her lap. Sesshoumaru was still not satisfied, but it was clear he would get little, if anything, more out of his servant this evening. Scoffing, he rose smoothly and meandered his way out of the forest without as much as a backward glance.

The hanyou was so frail that he could learn nothing he was not already aware of of its ability through observation. Likewise, it seemed completely ignorant of its own origins, which left him without a lead to pursue instead. Additionally, Aoki had begun hinting at how useless and cumbersome the hanyou was, and he could not ignore that it had not improved in any manner as a servant thus far. As Sesshoumaru made the trek back to the base, he began to wonder if the creature stumbling along behind him would ever prove itself worth the effort he had put into acquiring it.

* * *

Many miles south of the castle-base ran a long mountain range covered in thick forests. It served well to define the southern edge of the enormous Shinano Province which the demons considered the Western Territory where the Inu no Taishou reigned, and the Suruga and Toutomi Provinces which were part of the Southern Territory. The forests which covered the slopes stopped abruptly at the foot of the mountains, opening into vast fields and plains of thick grasses, shrubs, and wildflowers.

All was muted in the dark of the night, barely illuminated by the sliver of light from the waxing crescent moon. Hidden just inside the forest line and untouched by the pearly hues, the Warmaster Rekkonji waited for his scouts to meet him. They'd had well over a month to complete the task he'd assigned them, and General Touga was growing anxious for an answer. As the moon began to sink toward the horizon, they arrived.

The small group of demons clad in basic armors and camouflaging colors came to kneel before the Warmaster, their leader the only one to raise his head to address the elder demon.

"Report," Rekkonji commanded, arms crossed impatiently.

"Honored one, we traveled south into the territory you indicated, combing through it and the areas surrounding it. While we were able to locate the underground fortress you indicated, we found no trace of the creature you described."

"I see. What was the state of the fortress?" Rekkonji asked.

"Cold and dead," the scout replied. "We found only thick cobwebs, the small temporary nests of lesser demons, and spirits around the place."

"And in the depths of the fortress?" Rekkonji pressed.

The scout spoke confidently. "Also empty, sir, with no traces of the strange fire you mentioned."

Rekkonji stroked thoughtfully at his goatee for a moment, ruby eyes fixed on some distant point in the sloping forest. ' _Dead, cold, and empty… Had_ that one _been there recently enough for Sesshoumaru to encounter, the fortress would not have been found in such a state. This is good news.'_

The scouts remained knelt, motionless, awaiting his word.

"This mission is nonexistent," Rekkonji said. "Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," the demons replied in unison.

Rekkonji grunted. "You're dismissed for a three-day respite. Report to the base afterward for further assignment."

Again, a chorus of affirmation, but none dared to move until Rekkonji departed.

With a mighty leap, he took to the sky, slipping into the clouds to release the human-like guise all greater demons capable of shape-shifting maintained. His limbs lengthened and shifted, ears crawling up to perk atop his head, ruby eyes blazing red with demonic might as he shook off the last tingles of the transformation. Rekkonji's natural jackal form was about half the height of Touga's many-storied castle, and little more than a tawny phantom as he sprinted across the sky to return to the General with his scout's findings.

* * *

As he arrived at the castle-base, Rekkonji resumed his human-like form in the clouds before gliding smoothly down to join the Inu no Taishou on the uppermost patio of the castle. The elder dog was clad fully in his armor, gazing out across his territory. He scrutinized his Warmaster silently, expectation glinting in his marigold eyes. Rekkonji simply shook his head, answering the unspoken question as he closed to a whispering distance.

"There is nothing, then." Touga said under his breath.

"I feel confident we can attribute the young prince's musings to an over-active imagination, my lord," Rekkonji replied in a similar manner.

Touga grunted in agreement. "I trust your judgment and the dependability of your scouts, so that is what we will do. Let us instead turn our attention toward the eastern border near Kai Province." The General spoke at a normal volume now. "I've received word that some of the greater spirits there are being needlessly harassed by the local wolf tribe."

"Tch. Brigands. Have they nothing better to do with their time?" Rekkonji leaned back on the wood banister beside Touga, arms crossing leisurely.

"It appears they do not." The General's lips curled into a wry smirk. "I will be leaving soon to investigate. Such behavior will not be tolerated in my territory."

"Perhaps there is a new alpha and they have conveniently forgotten to whom the tribe owes fealty." Rekkonji tilted his head, considering his friend.

"If that is the case, they will be made to remember." Touga growled, and Rekkonji smirked. Ignoring it, the General continued."I trust you and Fuyutoka will be able to handle things here while I am away."

The Warmaster nodded. "As always; though you'll forgive me, of course, if I find need to teach that pup of yours a lesson." His tone trailed off, communicating his exasperation.

Touga chuckled heartily. "Please, do. I fear he has grown somewhat debased, especially with the servants as of late. I am often too lenient with him and do not give him the attention I should."

Rekkonji straightened himself and turned to address the General, tone sincere. "The fault is not entirely yours, my friend. You often have matters to tend to, and he has as much of his fickle and head-strong mother in him as he does your honorable self."

Touga narrowed his eyes at the mountain range in the distance, disappointment in his own voice. "True. However, his upbringing is my responsibility, not his mother's. He is a direct reflection of myself; both my strengths and my flaws."

Rekkonji patted Touga's shoulder, careful of his spiked shoulder guards. "He is only a few centuries old; still young. Every warrior endures a phase of pride. Recall, you did as well at one point. Also remember that, unlike most, Sesshoumaru walks in the heavy shadow of his mighty sire. Have confidence, Touga; your pup will rise to that challenge with grace and grow into wisdom, as you desire him to."

Touga nodded, knowing he could depend on Rekkonji's insight. "Perhaps...he only requires a good opportunity in which to grow." His tone was questioning and he glanced at his Warmaster, who gave him an encouraging expression and slight nod. The General considered for a moment more and nodded as well. "I will go to see for myself the situation near the eastern border; however I will have Sesshoumaru handle it. Let us see how he approaches a challenge not physical, but social."

Rekkonji's face broke into a grin and he suppressed a chuckle. "That will be interesting indeed..."

In the days that followed, Touga left to observe the situation in the east from afar and returned. It was exactly as he had heard, and he considered it worth the attention he'd given it. The matter did indeed present a rare opportunity for his son to practice the skills he often misused or neglected. As such, Touga could not let it pass. All that remained was to inform the young daiyoukai.


	7. Chapter 6: Conniption

The final days of summer were upon them, and none-too-soon for Kuroihi's liking. The heat of the day clung like a bubble around the castle-base with the wind offering no relief. The sun was sinking into the west as she made her way to a higher level of the castle where a series of drying lines were fastened. The opposite ends stretched to the top of one of the corner yagura towers, a simple pulley system allowing the lines to be rotated and the dried clothes brought within reach. From one of these, Kuroihi carefully removed a series of yukata and kimono belonging to Sesshoumaru. The young daiyoukai was adamant about allowing only his personal attendants to handle his clothing, convinced of the inferiority of the other servants. Having worked around them for nearly all her life, Kuroihi couldn't say she blamed him.

She folded each piece meticulously, set it neatly aside, and pulled down the next until she had a tall stack. Arms laden with clean garments, the half-demon made her way back down to the lower level of his wing. She was tucking the sun-scented clothes into one of the closets along the hallway beyond the bonsai-painted shouji doors when she heard it: footsteps and the clinking of armor coming down the hallway from the main castle.

 _'_ _Strange, I thought Lord Sesshoumaru was in his quarters. No one else wears their armor inside except-'_

A chill ran down her spine. Quickly, she closed the closet and padded to the bonsai-painted doors, cracking them just enough to peer into the hallway beyond. A servant donned in a floral and marigold summer yukata came around the corner at the far end, striding quickly toward her. Behind them, a long, bold shadow crawled its way along the polished floor and up the wall as the being in armor approached.

Kuroihi straightened and slid one of the bonsai doors open fully to greet the General's servant with an appropriate bow. The male servant came to a stop several feet in front of her, examining her briefly before giving her an appropriately shallow bow in return. His voice was urgent but kind as he spoke with all his master's authority.

"Please inform the Lord Sesshoumaru that his honorable father, the Lord General, seeks an audience with him presently."

Kuroihi blinked, panicking for only a breath as she realized the creeping shadow down the hall belonged to the General himself. "I-immediately," she stammered, excusing herself to bolt across the width of the dim inner hall to the doors with cobalt and fuchsia stripes.

She listened for a moment to confirm Lord Sesshoumaru was, indeed, in the tatami room before entering silently. She did not need to await his call today, as he had given all three of his servants the freedom to shuffle about as they pleased so long as they did not disturb him. He was seated on his usual zabuton, golden eyes fixed on his low table across which a scroll a was spread, baring his native script. Aoki was knelt near the door, and she shot Kuroihi an irritated glance as the half-demon moved to kneel beside to her. Kuroihi was growing used to Aoki's constant vigilance, but it still made her hesitate before leaning closer and whispering to Aoki about the General's impending arrival.

Aoki's shock blue eyes widened and began darting around the room, seeking any place that would require attention. When Kuroihi did not move or speak again, Aoki nudged her roughly, indicated their lord, and Kuroihi realized Aoki meant for her to be the one to tell him. The two females locked eyes with each other, holding a fierce, but silent, argument. Aoki's lips pursed until they turned white, and Kuroihi understood she'd lost. She straightened her posture before bowing formally to Sesshoumaru, tone submissive.

"My lord, please forgive the intrusion." She could feel Sesshoumaru's jyaki pulse with irritation and press in on her. She held tightly to her voice, however, fearing the scolding for remaining silent more than the one she might receive in response to the news. "Your honorable father approaches presently and seeks an audience." Sesshoumaru's jyaki roiled, but Kuroihi kept her eyes on the floor.

"Is that so…" The frost in the lord's voice matched the ice in the glare he shot at the door. He perked his ears, listening beyond the shoji doors and found the half-breed was, unfortunately, correct. He drew his jyaki back for only a moment, giving his servants silent permission to move.

The females leaped into action, brushing at the tatami mats here and there to remove the non-existent dust, tugging and smoothing at the screens that separated this room from the rest of their master's quarters, and fetching and arranging a spare zabuton across from him. Sesshoumaru simply began rolling up his scroll, experiencing none of the same urgency his servants did.

A soft tapping of claws on the wood frame announced the General's arrival, and Aoki fell quickly into a statuesque kneel near one of the walls. Kuroihi examined the room one final time before kneeling at the door. Her master lowered his chin just so, eyes fixed on the door as Kuroihi slid it open to welcome the General and his single attendant.

* * *

Sesshoumaru continued to glower until a moment before his father's entry. The male was encroaching on Sesshoumaru's privacy once again, something the young daiyoukai absolutely loathed. It was considered proper, and Sesshoumaru's preference, for his father to summon Sesshoumaru to meet him in a neutral location; yet here he was in Sesshoumaru's private quarters. Again.

The marigold-clad servant gave the room a cursory examination and, finding it acceptable, shuffled quickly inside and out of his master's way to join Aoki. As the General himself entered, all three attendants pressed their foreheads to the floor in bows of the deepest respect, shivering as the atmosphere of the room shifted. Sesshoumaru's presence filled his room with a stifling weight that made the air around him prickle. He was frigid and tense, like a bow string overdrawn to the point of snapping. The General, on the other hand, was tranquil and warm, carrying with him the wisdom of his many centuries. His presence was enormous, dwarfing Sesshoumaru's, and negating his son's suffocating tension. For his own servant, the chill of Sesshoumaru was unnerving. For Aoki and Kuroihi, the General's serenity offered a temporary respite.

The long twin-tailed mokomoko cloak that fell down the General's back flicked out from under him on its own as he settled himself comfortably on the cushion across from his son. He wore only his plated cuirass today, knowing his full complement of armor would damage the fragile tatami weaves. The young daiyoukai offered his father an appropriate bow as the hanyou servant slid the door closed, and the older demon nodded in return.

"Good afternoon, chichi-ue. To what do I owe the honor of your presence?" Sesshoumaru's tone was respectful despite his lips being drawn into a tight line.

The General frowned slightly. "Always so brusque; can you not spare even a moment of polite conversation for your father? As I recall, your mother taught you that art."

Sesshoumaru tilted his head, considering his response. "Forgive me, Father. I presumed you came here on a matter of some significance. I wished only to tend to that matter as soon as possible. I intended no disrespect."

The General merely grunted in response, displeased, but not so concerned as to pursue the matter. An awkward silence fell between them, Sesshoumaru waiting for his father's words and the General gauging the best way to continue.

Kuroihi was still knelt at the door behind the master of the castle-base, but was positioned further along the wall and so had a good view of both males. As they stared each other down, she dared to sneak a peek. At first glance, they were near-mirror images of each other; ivory hair, golden eyes, bold markings across alabaster skin and elegant features. Even their postures were similar: straight backs and squared shoulders giving each an air of regality and grace. Once the initial impression wore off however, the differences were painfully clear to see, like summer and winter forced to confront one another. A tense moment passed as the two daiyoukai continued sizing each other up.

Finally, the General broke the silence. "I desire that you travel East to see to a matter of interest that has come to my attention."

Sesshoumaru's lips quirked. "Indeed, and what matter would that be?"

"The wolves along the eastern border have taken to harassing and slaughtering the greater spirits in the surrounding mountains and forests. This will not be permitted to continue. You will seek them out on my behalf and convince then to cease such behavior."

Blinking his honey-gold eyes slowly, Sesshoumaru calmed his irritation before speaking again. "If I may, this matter seems to be more of a concern than an interest." His father's affirmative nod permitted him to continue. "Then, I wonder why father does not choose to see to it himself, so that his will might be enforced in a proper and accurate fashion."

Touga smirked and hummed with amusement. He read the deference in Sesshoumaru's speech and tone for the attempt to avoid the assignment that it was. "This is but one matter I must see to, and I trust in your abilities to rectify the situation satisfactorily."

Sesshoumaru's lips pursed slightly. "It would seem the matter is of lesser importance than your other concerns. Surely, as a lesser concern, it could wait for your more…skilled…attention."

"I desire _you_ to handle it, Sesshoumaru." Touga's voice rose, heavy with authority, and Kuroihi and Aoki flinched. "If you must, consider it a training exercise."

"Training, father?" Sesshoumaru tilted his head, indifferent to his father's display. "Of what sort?"

"Negotiations. Your wit and wile does well enough here with people you are familiar with, but I desire you to practice with others as well. Show me you are capable of convincing this wolf pack to find alternatives to the greater spirits in their area for whatever need is being met by their slaughter."

Sesshoumaru waited a moment for his father to continue. When he did not, the young daiyoukai blinked again. "To what end?" The General blinked as well, puzzled as he echoed Sesshoumaru's question. "Yes, father. For what gain? Every effort should be to some end for some form of influence or acquisition of greater power; so to what end are the wolves to be convinced to turn their attention away from the spirits?"

"Have you no understanding or consideration for the wilds, my son? All spirits, great and small, encourage the trees to grow and bear fruit, they support the mountains and tend to the creatures of water and land on which we rely for sustenance. Even human spirits play a role." He marked Sesshoumaru's disgusted sneer at the mention of mortals. "Yes, Sesshoumaru, even the humans. These spirits keep my lands healthy and prosperous, and should be looked after."

Still nursing his riled antipathy toward the mere thought of the mortal creatures, Sesshoumaru allowed his words and tone to sharpen. "And yet, dear father, the continued rapacity of these beings over the many centuries and millennia has not rendered the land barren or the lake beds dry…"

Touga growled, causing even his own servant to shrink away. "Do you fancy yourself old and wise already, _pup_? Are the words of your own father meaningless to you?"

Sesshoumaru's eyes slid closed and his lips pursed. It was as much a concession as Touga would get today, and he knew it. He continued to growl, substantiating his authority and dominance in the only language that seemed capable of reaching his headstrong spawn. Tiring of the debate which should have never begun, he rose to his feet to loom over the young male before him. Sesshoumaru maintained his posture as his father's shadow fell over him.

"To the east with you, my son. Convince the wolves to find other means to accomplish their goals and to let the spirits alone. I expect news of your success within the week." The General decreed.

Sesshoumaru finally moved, bowing his head with the minimum required amount of deference his father would permit. As the older demon turned to leave, Kuroihi sat up just enough to allow her to slide the door open for him. His eyes fell on her and he paused. It took him a moment, but he did recall the hanyou whelp he'd been given almost two centuries prior. He would not have been surprised to see it still shuffling about the castle had he not found it in his son's dark slate grey uniform.

He tucked the knowledge away for later contemplation. Once the space offered was sufficient, Touga strode through the doorway, across the dim hallway and into the rest of the castle, his servant close behind him.

Once the General had departed, the younger daiyoukai's face twisted into a venomous glower which he fixed on the cushion his father had occupied. Neither Aoki nor Kuroihi dared to move now, lest they draw his ire.

 _'_ _Are you testing me, father, by assigning me this task? Will you now rush to the aide of every insignificant sprite?_ _'_ Sesshoumaru thought.

He sneered, disgusted by his father's bleeding heart. As far as he was concerned, the wolves in the East were only behaving in their natural manner. Despite his avid disagreement, however, Sesshoumaru understood the need for his father's will to be enforced in order to maintain control of his lands. The thought did not quell his anger, but did provide it a constructive outlet, and Sesshoumaru allowed his anger to shift focus. The minutes ticked by as he plotted his journey along a mental map. When he spoke again, both servants flinched.

"Aoki," he said softly, "Have my armor and weapons readied. I am leaving."

The older female bowed and slipped away to comply, glad for the excuse to escape her master. Sesshoumaru's gaze then fell on the lingering half-demon. With both Kazawa and Aoki gone, only it remained to tend to his needs. He required his hair to be braided, but the thought of the mortal-tainted creature touching him made his skin crawl.

"You." He growled, and its tufted ears perked attentively. "Prepare my traveling boots."

He would manage his hair himself this time.

The sky was still dark when Sesshoumaru left his father's castle-base. From the grove beyond the walls, he rose effortlessly into the sky, skimming along the cloud tops as he released his human-like guise.

Honey gold shifted to blue; the whites of his eyes flashed and bled crimson with his demonic might. His body quivered, rippling smoothly into the shape of an enormous white dog with long, feathered ears, wicked claws, and a sneering maw. His mokomoko became a thick band of fur encircling his shoulder and torso, his distinctive facial markings remaining to give vivid contrast to his shimmering coat. At his age of only a few centuries, he was a far cry from his father's magnificence. Still, the swift shadow he cast along the ground struck apprehension into the hearts of the lesser creatures below as he bound across the sky to the East.

A sylvan landscape spread out beneath him, eventually giving way to vast hills and plains dotted with colonies great and small where humans festered. The sun broke the horizon and slowly crawled along the endless blue expanse above him, the clouds dark and pregnant with rain at his feet. Mountains rose high, their sharp peaks slicing through the lower hanging clouds, their roots diving down into sprawling valleys and jagged ravines. Sprites and imps and ogres and all creatures on the ground paused momentarily to observe his passing with suspicious glances. A medley of scents rose to meet his nose; wildflowers, crisp brooks and stagnant swamps, charred flesh, and finally…the smell of wolves.

Sesshoumaru slowed his pace to inspect the panorama below. The tribe he sought resided at the foot of a small mountain, and he found them easily by tracking their unique scent. Several of their number were spread out across the field and lower crags of the mountain. They were scouts, he presumed, judging from their basic armor and weapons as well as the presence of true wolves accompanying them. Unlike greater demons, wolf demons were incapable of changing their shapes, but their human-like appearance was only skin deep. They possessed the same strength, fortitude, and longevity of other demons, and the same savage pack-focused natures of the wolves they were able to command. Considered higher than other beastly bipedal creatures, they were still lesser than Sesshoumaru, and he gloated to himself as he chose a place to land.

The scouts below spotted him as he descended and raised the alarm to the rest of their pack higher in the mountains with shouts, barks, and howls. Sesshoumaru landed heavily, intent on and successful in knocking several of the scouts off their feet. His chest rumbled with a growl of amusement. The sound quickly rose into his throat as a snarl, and he curled his lips to flash his fangs at the beings lesser than himself. Noxious fumes from his toxic saliva began pooling around his paws, leaving acrid splotches along the ground and melting away every rock and leaf it touched. His size may not have been enough to bring them to heel, but his poison usually did the trick.

The scouts scampered away from him, taking to higher ground on the crags of the mountain side and hollering for their alpha. These underlings understood only that the White Inu tribe was dominant in these lands, and one of them was here; and much as Sesshoumaru enjoyed tormenting them with his own vicious barks and snapping at their feet, he was here for a purpose. Once he had chased them further up the mountain side, he took a small step back and allowed his form to condense into the human-like appearance most demons recognized.

His hair was pulled back into a braid that hung to his elbows and he was garbed in his usual white kimono with dark geometric patterns along one side of his collar and decorating the lengths of his sleeves. His hakama were gathered at his ankles and tucked comfortably into his traveling boots. Scaled armor hugged his torso, and a daishou set of blades, one shorter tanto blade and one longer katana, was tucked securely into his obi belt. It was his markings that they knew to look for though, which called to the noble heritage of both his influential mother and domineering father. In this more compact form, they were able to see the markings in all their glory.

The wolves on the mountain side above him slowly lowered their weapons, but kept tight hold of them, ready to raise again at a moment's notice. Their anxiety pleased him, but it was nothing compared to the terror he had seen his father's presence incite. He wanted that reputation for himself. It was his birthright, after all; what could be more natural? He could not make this encounter about himself, though, for it would anger and undermine his father, neither of which he had any intention of doing.

For now.

He glanced up to the nearest scout. "Do you know who I am, wolf?"

The male simply nodded, apprehensive.

"Then I expect the presence of your alpha." The male nodded again, motioning toward a nearby cliff and Sesshoumaru turned his gaze to it expectantly.

A moment later, a trio of humanoids joined the scouts, attended by a handful of wolves in their natural bestial forms. The new demons appraised Sesshoumaru with sharp eyes, the elder of the three stepping forward dominantly. Sesshoumaru tucked his arms neatly into his sleeves.

"What do you want, dog? We've already paid our tribute to the General," The male growled, arms crossed over his bare chest.

"Your paltry offering to my honored father is not my concern today, wolf," Sesshoumaru said coolly, taking pleasure in the momentary shock that flashed across the alpha's face. Had he not realized before to whom he was speaking? "Rather, I am here to address a series of incidents that have come to his attention. Tell me of the situation concerning the woodland spirits inhabiting the forests along this mountain range."

The alpha chuckled. "Those pests? They're easy prey, nothing more to it."

While Sesshoumaru agreed, he was here for a purpose. He blinked slowly at the lesser male. "I fail to see how mere sprites could be considered viable targets." *

"I got pups to train and a pack to feed. Not that you would know anything about that." Sesshoumaru tilted his head slightly in question and the wolf continued. "We don't get to lounge around a castle all day, pampered and lethargic. Every wolf here works for their keep…"

Pampered? Lethargic? The sting to his pride blurred the rest of the alpha's diatribe in Sesshoumaru's ears, and he leveled an icy gaze at the male. "I see… So that is your opinion of me."

The alpha wolf paused as crimson began feathering around the edges of Sesshoumaru's eyes, sharpening his cavalier expression. "Is this also, perhaps, your opinion of my honored father; undisputed ruler of the Western Province; your own lord and master; your own _alpha_?"

The wolves looked to their alpha, who knew he could not back down; not in front of them. He bared his fangs, squared his shoulders, and growled. "I have no alpha, especially not that mongrel."

Sesshoumaru's claws stretched into readiness, tone as acrid as the poison that dripped from his fingertips. "Is. That. So…"

* * *

That afternoon, father and son met in the grove just beyond the castle walls. The air was chilled and heavy with the coming downpour. The weather reflected the general's mood as he listened to Sesshoumaru's report, brow twitching.

"Who struck first?" The elder demon asked, tone controlled and fists held firmly at the small of his back.

"I did, naturally," Sesshoumaru responded nonchalantly, his arms tucked leisurely into his sleeves.

The general forced himself to remain calm. "'Naturally'?"

"Not only was your will and prowess being questioned, father but I, too, was challenged. I simply answered both appropriately and in kind." Sesshoumaru responded nonchalantly.

The general's lips drew into a tight line. "Were any slain?"

Sesshoumaru inspected the branches of a nearby cherry tree, his tone ringing with mock and disappointment. "No, they relented quickly enough and groveled their apologies. Rejoice, father, they have given their words to obey your command and leave the spirits in peace."

The elder daiyoukai sighed. "That was not entirely the purpose of you going, my son."

It was Sesshoumaru's turn to twitch his brow with irritation. "You defined only that the wolves be convinced to let the forest spirits alone. This has been done. What more was there to be accomplished?"

"It is the manner in which you went about it that I wish to address, my son. Violence should be reserved for when it is needed, not employed when it is convenient." Sesshoumaru gave him a puzzled look. "You must learn the art of diplomacy, learn to employ your words and stance as a weapon equaling the efficiency of your claws."

"One's standing must often be reinforced in the language all demons understand," Sesshoumaru argued, but his father's silence told him he would not yield on the matter. He resisted the urge to scowl his displeasure and continued. "And how shall I learn this skill, father? Will I be returning to the home of my honored mother, who is so fond of such prattle?" The very thought of having to sit through his mother's paltry and endless chatter and be forced to participate made his hackles rise.

The General slid those marigold eyes to his son, a slight smirk pulling at his face. "Do not tempt me, pup…" His tone was filled with warning. "You will accompany me on my trip to the north and observing my discussions with the leader of the Tengu tribe. I am leaving in one month's time. Until then, you will practice both words and weapons with Rekkonji."

Sesshoumaru swallowed his bile-like retort and closed his eyes, taking a slight step back to show his concession. This was not a battle he could win. "As you wish, chichi-ue."

The General nodded, and then turned his attention to the clouds, inspecting the weather as small droplets began to plink to the ground around him. Sesshoumaru took advantage of his distraction to excuse himself, sweeping through the courtyard and down the halls to his wing of the castle.

He made no attempt to control his jyaki as he stalked through the corridors, which thrashed and roiled to reflect the rage boiling inside him. He slashed through the bonsai-painted shouji doors, sending them clattering off their tracks to the floor. They narrowly missed crashing into the prostrated Aoki and hanyou creature, who had surely sensed him coming and prepared themselves. He felt no guilt about it, enacting the same violence on the fuchsia and cobalt set and melting into the darkness of his inner sanctum.

 _'How could father enact such a punishment upon this Sesshoumaru?'_ he seethed, knocking over a tall, wrought iron lamp stand. The unlit lamp clattered to the ground, oil splattering across the wood floor as Sesshoumaru continued to pace angrily. _'Words are for those too weak to enforce their wills otherwise, for begging and groveling to one's betters. I have no use for such things.'_

 _'Or, perhaps, is this a matter of learning the strategies of my enemies through such an exchange? What purpose would that serve, when they will be dispatched before they are able to enact them?'_ He clenched his fist, glowering at the illuminated paper door that led out onto his patio. _'And for that jackal of all things attempt to instruct me… I do not understand, father, I do not understand!'_

The rising thrum of the rain served only to intensify his frustration and smoldering rage. So, when a soft creak alerted him to an intruder in his inner sanctum some time later, he was already in a fit. He snapped his gaze back to focus on the slinking figure edging cautiously into the darkness. The ears atop its head perked and swiveled as it sought him out, its rich and terrified scent removing any doubt of who the figure was.

"…My..lord?..," Its voice quivered slightly.

He bared a fang at the half-breed through the darkness and growled. "What."

It flinched, but the reaction brought him none of the usual enjoyment. "I-"

"What?!" he barked again.

The creature dropped its head, ears flattening. "Your humble servant wishes only to ensure that your honorable self is not in want of anything."

The angle of its body and general manner told him the creature could not perceive him here, the same way it could not perceive him in the forest on the moonless night. This only served to irritate him further. He allowed his footfalls to sound against the wood as he bore down upon the creature, grasping the braid it had pinned into a crown on the back of its head, and flinging it back into the tatami room.

It bit back a yelp as it skidded across the mats, quickly rolling to press its face to the floor in a bow as he snarled. "You will know when I want something, servant, because I will demand it. Now, get. Out."

The creature scrambled to its feet and out of the room, and Sesshoumaru listened as its hurried footsteps faded down the hall to the rest of the castle. In the distance, he could hear the pleased chuckles of both Kazawa and Aoiki and he quickly understood what must have transpired.

The fools; did they think he would not discover their ploy? Rage rang in his ears, his fists clenched until his claws nearly sliced into his own flesh. Then, all at once, he relaxed, settling into a livid tranquility. Brute force would not communicate his displeasure this time, not to Kazawa and Aoki, but he knew what would…


	8. Chapter 7: The Last Straw

They’d set her up. Kuroihi knew they had the moment Kazawa and Aoki agreed she should be the one to check on Lord Sesshoumaru. Even so, she wasn’t in a position to refuse them. The pair exchanged pleased expressions as Kuroihi returned, passed them, and ducked into a quiet side room to straighten her hair and clothing.

  

She was growing tired of being the dupe for Aoki and Kazawa’s games. Sesshoumaru was above her judgments on the merit that, whether she liked it or not, he was her lord and master. It was well within his rights to administer punishment as he saw fit, no matter if it was cruel or unjust. The others, however, had no such excuse. They were her superiors in age and experience, true, but the extent of their disdain for her was becoming infantile.

 

           _‘Not that it matters,’_ She thought bitterly to herself as she rejoined them, ‘ _There’s nothing to be done about it. I’m the only one that even cares.’_

  

The rest of the day passed with the three of them remaining just within earshot of the still fuming prince and trying to avoid drawing his attention to themselves. As such, they were unable to replace the shouji doors Sesshoumaru had destroyed. Kazawa and Aoki pulled out a Go board and beads from one of the closets while they waited for his call, setting up against a wall to play a friendly match. Today, Kuroihi was comfortable with being pointedly ignored, simply observing the ‘tic’ and ‘tac’ of their black and white beads across the wood board. Outside, the downpour persisted and the sky darkened as the sun drifted below the horizon. The hours slipped by; twilight melting into midnight and then into dawn.

    

“I told you it was going to be a long night…” Kazawa muttered.

            

Aoki shrugged and stifled a yawn. “It isn’t the first and it won’t be the last.”

            

“Indeed. Shall we place bets on how long the prince’s anger will hold out?” He asked offhandedly.

  

“My dear Kazawa-san,” she teased, “you know your purse only grows lighter every time we do.” Aoki smiled gently. Their rounds of Go might see either of them win, but their wagers on Lord Sesshoumaru’s mood always ended in her favor.

            

“I will gladly trade a lighter purse for a higher score, charming Aoki-san.” Kazawa smirked as he plinked down one of his black beads.

 

Aoki’s smile lessened as she saw his game-long ruse come to fruition on the board, placing her in a position she could not recover from. Bitter, but true to form, she conceded gracefully and turned her attention to the contest she knew she would win.

 

They weighed previous bets against the current situation, taking into consideration the extent to which they expected to suffer. The pair decided that if this fit lasted for more than three days, it would be worth more than when Sesshoumaru had tossed one of the guards off the top of the castle. However, it would not be worth as much as when he had nearly drowned Kazawa in his early years of service. Kuroihi could only listen as they continued to recount and weigh the severity of previous occurrences. She was appalled by how casually they treated Lord Sesshoumaru’s violent outbursts and abuse.

 

 Would she suffer as much as they had? The conniving expression on Lord Sesshoumaru’s face as he finally emerged from within his inner quarters soon after dawn convinced her that she would.

  

Sesshoumaru examined the beings he called his servants as they bowed before him. Aoki and Kazawa presented their usual showing of poise and grace, but the half-demon was hunched as though expecting, rightfully, to be struck. Each of them was alert, suffering none of the effects of sleep deprivation; at least, not yet. He knew demons could pass several days without rest and continue to function, however he did not yet know for how long a half-breed could. He would find out soon enough. While Sesshoumaru was perfectly aware Kazawa and Aoki had entrapped the hanyou, he blamed that creature as much as they for the incident the previous evening. They had used him and his anger to their advantage and for entertainment in the same manner he would employ a weapon or other tool. It was only fitting that they would, all of them, suffer for it.

            

“We are leaving.” he said calmly before turning to slip back into and through his quarters to the veranda outside. The three of them scrambled to fall into place, handling doors and geta as required. He took the path over the wall again to avoid being spotted and tracked by the gatekeepers, choosing a road that would take him into the wilds, but not near the pine forest where he had examined the hanyou.

        

“My lord,” Aoki began softly. Sesshoumaru did not respond, but she continued. “If I may ask…Perhaps, we could know where it is we are off to?”

            

Slowly, a passive-aggressive smile graced his features as he simply continued his trek away from the castle and into the wilds beyond. There was no need to explain; she would understand soon enough.

 

 

* * *

 

           

The Inu no Taishou’s castle-base was built at a strategically advantageous point, as most structures of its kind were. In the General’s case, this meant it was able to monitor and make use of the nearby river and often traveled roads in the area. Anyone, demon, human, or otherwise, who wanted to move about in the territory within relative distance of the castle was subject to the General’s observation, influence, and command. As such, Sesshoumaru chose the most expedient path to take them beyond that invisible border.

 

           The rainclouds had mostly dispersed, leaving only scattered swirls of gray above them. The leaves and grass still dripped with rain, and the road was ~~still~~ soaked and muddy. For Sesshoumaru, who could glide and fly, the condition of the road was of little concern. For his servants, who could not, it made all the difference. His greater stature meant his strides were longer, and the trio struggled to navigate the puddle-strewn path while attempting to keep pace with him. Despite their best efforts, the distance between them and their master gradually increased.

            

“My lord!” Kazawa called. “Please, a moment!”

  

Sesshoumaru did not slow his pace, for that would defeat the purpose of this excursion. The sun rose and passed its apex, the weather grew hot and muggy, and the scattered group crossed the invisible line that marked the edge of the General’s immediate influence. Kazawa, Aoki, and Kuroihi continued scrambling to close the increasing distance between themselves and their master, kicking up mud which caked their uniforms. Aoki groused, knowing how tedious cleaning them would be.

 

 The scent in the air told Sesshoumaru he’d reached the stretch of road where travelers were often waylaid by malicious beasts. He took advantage of a slope in the terrain to break his servants’ line of sight and slip into the nearby trees. He watched the scattered trio, ignorant to his ruse, pass and he allowed himself to smirk. What would they encounter first, he wondered?

         

It did not take long for them to attract the attention of an ogre lying in wait behind a cluster of large bushes on the side of the road. With a deep grunt of excitement, it stepped out onto the road to block the way. It was an average specimen, standing three meters tall with beady black eyes, wicked horns rising from a wild mass of dark hair, dark leather-like skin, a mouth filled with jagged fangs, and three-fingered hands that ended in vicious talons. Its body was a tower of solid, lean muscle, wearing only a tattered loincloth and hefting a large bone club in one hand.

            

The ogre’s stomach snarled with hunger, and time suspended as Kazawa, who was in the lead, locked eyes with the beast. All three servants froze where they stood, holding their breath, and heartbeats thundering in their ears as the severity of the situation weighed heavily on them. Kazawa was the only one with anything resembling combat training, and even he was questioning his chances here.

 

           Aoki’s involuntary scream of terror broke the spell. She quickly stifled it beneath her hands and Kazawa fumbled for the short tanto blade tucked into his belt. Despite his doubts, it was his responsibility as a male to defend these females, and as his master’s servant to protect Lord Sesshoumaru’s possessions. Aoki backed away to both put distance between herself and the beast and to give Kazawa room. Kuroihi’s feet would not respond, however, and she stood frozen to the spot some meters away.

  

            Kazawa forced all the authority he could muster into his voice.  “Back down, creature; and stand aside!” he commanded.

  

The ogre didn’t seem to hear him let alone heed him, hefting its enormous club high above its head and smashing it down into the road. Kazawa threw himself out of the way not a moment too soon. The slow-witted beast blinked, confused, and Kazawa took advantage of its delay to scramble to his feet, grab Aoki by the arm, and make a break for the tree line. He hoped the tight spaces between the trees would slow the beast enough for them to escape. The ogre smashed at the thick trunks with its mighty fists, but found it took longer to uproot even one out of its way than was worth the effort. Kazawa cursed silently as he watched the beast turn its attention to the half-breed, who was still frozen where she stood in the middle of the road. Why hadn’t she fled?!

 

 Kuroihi watched, still unable to move, as the tower of living muscle turned its beady black eyes on her now. It stomped toward her, the ground shaking under its feet. It raised its club again to swing at her, and all at once her feet came unglued and her panic-fogged mind cleared. Her instincts screamed at her to run. The club missed her by a hair as she threw herself to the ground and bolted for the tree line on the opposite side of the road from Kazawa and Aoki. The ogre roared with anger over its continued failure. It abandoned its club, diving with claws extended to snatch at the last fleeing morsel. Kuroihi leapt and scrambled high into a tree, just barely out of reach.

  

The ogre swiped and snatched at Kuroihi, catching only her hakama, which ripped easily in its talons. Kazawa chewed his lip. The half-breed would be no great loss, in fact none would even think of her in two days’ time should she never return. But she belonged to Sesshoumaru, the same as himself and Aoki, and Kazawa was unsure Sesshoumaru would react to her loss. His mind raced. The ogre bashed its fists into the tree, trying to shake Kuroihi loose. Both females screamed for their master, who did not respond. Kazawa tasted blood from his lip, and finally made his choice. He dreaded the possibility of Lord Sesshoumaru’s anger and punishment more than the social censure of protecting such a repulsive and shameful creature.

  

Blade in hand, he rushed across the road. With the ogre focused on Kuroihi, Kazawa was able to set up a clean slash at the beast’s ankle, severing the tendon. He leapt out of the way as it collapsed to the ground, claws snatching out for him. Emboldened by Kazawa’s success, Kuroihi took a gamble and pounced on the creature. It twisted to snatch her up as she bolted away, exposing its neck, and Kazawa took advantage of the opportunity to plunge his tanto into its neck. Thick, dark blood spurted from the vein, turning the ogre’s roars into gurgles. Kazawa stared at the beast in wonderment; had he truly managed to injure it so fatally?

 

 “Kazawa-san!” Aoki cried from the edge of the road, snapping Kazawa back to the present. He circled the ogre well out of its reach to rejoin with his companion. A quick examination told both that neither was injured, just shaken and filthy, and together with the equally-shaken Kuroihi they raced down the muddy road to try to find their master. The ogre was unable to give chase, and would bleed out soon enough.

  

From his watch point deeper in the trees, Sesshoumaru sneered. He was both satisfied with the success of his servants and irritated they had not suffered more.  ‘ _No matter’_  he thought haughtily, ‘ _there will be many more encounters before this journey is over.’_

            

Several days passed before the three servants encountered their master again. They found Sesshoumaru standing leisurely in the middle of the road, examining the forked path before him. Where he was immaculate, calm, and focused, the trio was filthy, exhausted, and fog-minded. On the surface, he seemed unaware they had lagged behind at all, blinking curiously at their ragged states as they finally caught up.

           

Sesshoumaru maintained a stoic expression, tone chilled with irritation as he reprimanded them. “Keep up.”

           

Without another word, he turned and began the journey home. Kazawa and Aoki snuffed the sparks of anger and fell into step behind their master. Kuroihi, however, bit her tongue and allowed her anger to smolder like embers in her belly. Even Fuyutoka had showed more regard for her than this! She frowned at the leading forms of Aoki and Kazawa, wondering how the pair had managed to endure this for years on end.

           

The group returned to the General’s castle-base without incident, and the three servants were equally relieved as they passed through the front gate. Their bodies ached, their stomachs were empty and throats dry. Fatigue pulled heavily at their limbs and eyelids, fogging their minds, and bringing them to the precipice of hallucination. Kazawa had fared better than the females, having travelled beyond the castle walls with Lord Sesshoumaru in the past. Kuroihi never left the safety of the General’s immediate territory, however, and the most ferocious thing Aoki had ever encountered before was an irritated swallow. Neither had been without the warmth and safety of the castle for so long or encountered legitimately life-threatening situations. For them, this past week had been hell.

           

            Once inside the castle walls, Sesshoumaru dismissed the group long enough for them to make a quick trip to the kitchens for food and tidy themselves before he summoned them again to attend him. There would be no reprieve for the enervated servants for the next several days, their lord demanding their constant attention and severely criticizing every minor imperfection. If they were caught, or thought to be delaying for rest, he was perfectly willing to show them just how displeased he was with their neglect. Each was littered with various marks from his manhandling, bruises from being kicked or shoved if they were in his way, and burns from his scalding tea if it wasn’t a flawless brew.

 

For Kuroihi, the worst came when she sneaked away for her day of weakness. She knew he would punish her for leaving without his permission, but she had no choice…

  

She managed to slip away while Sesshoumaru was reading and the other two, exhausted and inattentive, were distracted. She left and returned in her usual manner through the hole at the base of the wall, going immediately to the kitchens. With any luck, her absence would go unnoticed, or at least be excused by her arrival with Lord Sesshoumaru’s evening tea…she hoped… 

 

           Neither would be the case.

  

The moment Kuroihi slipped into the tatami room, she could feel his jyaki thrashing in anger. The air was electric, Aoki and Kazawa still as statues as Sesshoumaru’s blazing golden eyes fixed on the half-demon. He rejected her mumbled excuse about perfecting his tea, pointing out that she smelled of the wilds, and Kuroihi silently cursed her oversight. His absolute rage and utter disgust with her were indescribable. She had violated his command and authority, and by so doing had challenged him. He slapped the tray of tea out of her hands and made Aoki and Kazawa watch as he beat her.

 

 Fuyutoka had lashed her countless times in the past, but where the Overseer avoided inflicting any long-term damage, that very outcome seemed to be Lord Sesshoumaru’s intent. Every blow he landed left a bruise or welt. His mokomoko left an angry red burn around her ankle where he had employed it like a whip to drag her back within striking range. His expression was cold, twisted with malicious pleasure as he savored every yip and whimper she failed to stifle. 

  

Kuroihi felt each shock of pain deeper and deeper in her bones, reaching through her marrow to the tightly-wound bundle of darkness at her core. All her anger, all the resentment, and every ounce of bitterness she had shoved away and swallowed over the decades resided there. It trembled, it cracked, and as she felt one of her ribs break, it ignited.

  

Heat flashed through her veins, tingling in her fingertips and behind her eyes. Livid hatred bubbled at the back of her throat, threatening to spew forth a savage scream of malediction. She bit her tongue until she tasted blood and felt the scream subside. As much as she wanted to fight back in that moment, she understood her Lord well enough to know that even perceived resistance or complaints would only incite him further.

  

After what felt like an eternity, the fog of her own rage lifted and she realized Sesshoumaru’s onslaught had ceased. Her senses told her his jyaki had calmed but she remained as she was, a huddled ball of thrumming pain until she heard him step away from her and retake his seat on the zabuton. Carefully, and with his permission, she eased up to sit on her knees, quieting her labored breaths to soft, shallow gasps.

 

           Kuroihi would not be allowed to rest. To add insult to injury, Sesshoumaru tasked her with tidying the mess _she_ had made with the tray of tea and with bringing him a fresh pot. The silence in the room was charged, suffocating, and Kuroihi was all too eager to straighten her appearance and return to the kitchens.

  

With the half-breed gone, Sesshoumaru turned his attention to his two remaining servants. Neither had moved during his display and even now they were as statues for he had not given them permission to move. Both Kazawa and Aoki continued to examine the tatami where the hanyou had lain, which was sprinkled with what little blood Sesshoumaru had drawn from it.

  

“Tell me,” he cooed, “my dearest servants, did my little show amuse you the same as it did last time?”

  

Their fear perfumed the air, their hearts skipped, and he could almost hear them sink into their stomachs. Surely, they understood now that they had brought all of this upon themselves.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Pure hatred; that was what Kuroihi chose to call this new emotion festering in the back of her mind. With the nature of her existence and manner of living taken into consideration, it was assumed she’d experienced varying degrees of dislike, but until now she’d felt nothing so intense as this. It was unbecoming of a servant to hate their master or mistress. It was also considered unbecoming for a creature like her to even exist. For all she cared, whoever was keeping note could add it to the list of other unsightly things of which she was guilty. Her dreams twisted into nightmares haunted by Sesshoumaru’s wretched smile, and his imagined presence lurked in every shadow the same it had the first night she’d encountered him. It felt as though he was always listening, always watching, waiting to reach forth and crush her again. It disturbed her greatly, keeping her nerves constantly on edge.

  

Neither Kazawa nor Aoki spoke much in the following days, either to each other or to Kuroihi. Even as Kazawa counted out the agreed amount for Aoki winning their wager, only essential phrases were exchanged in accordance with propriety. Neither scolded Kuroihi when she made a mistake, which was a frequent occurrence now, when she was late, or otherwise was out of form for a good and proper servant. They seemed broken somehow, lesser than before, and Kuroihi wondered what Sesshoumaru had said or done to make them so.

 

            _That Sesshoumaru_ … she snarled mentally. The mere thought of him was enough to re-ignite her hate. That hate led to distraction, which led to gaffes, which led to paranoia. The repeating cycle quickly made it obvious to the hanyou why Sesshoumaru had been through so many servants over the years. She considered taking the same path many of them had and requesting reassignment.

 

She longed more than ever to be free of this place and its horrors but understood that enjoying that freedom was predicated on her being alive. She knew now that she could not survive the road on her own for long, and who in their right mind would help her? But at the same time, she didn't know how long she could survive her master’s temperament.


	9. Chapter 8: Reproach

            The stifling humidity of summer had finally begun to lift and the heat to break. In a field beyond the castle walls, Rekkonji ran his current roster of would-be warriors through basic paces. Sesshoumaru watched from the shade of his father’s grove, clad in his practice gi with his hair pulled back in a trailing braid. The young daiyoukai sneered at them all. Their gratitude and loyalty to the General were unquestionable, but to the keen eyes of his son, many of these creatures were simply unsuited for battle. Rekkonji saw it, too, as he strode through their uneven ranks and observed their enthusiastic, but ineffectual, strikes. Soon, his patience with them for the day ran out and he dismissed them. They thanked the Warmaster and departed for their various camps further from the castle.

 

            Rekkonji shook his head with a sigh as they moved out of earshot. Training fighters and observing the ascension of greater warriors was his pleasure in life, but he found himself on the verge of abandoning many of the volunteers he obtained over the past centuries. Demons and other such creatures came from far and wide, burdened with gratitude to the General for saving their lives at one point or another from many of the vile monsters that infested the Western Province. Most of them the General turned away, but some he directed to Rekkonji as an indulgence to his long-time companion. The extended idle period Touga had settled into in order to raise his son had long grated on both of the daiyoukai. But while the General was at least able to find fulfillment in the rearing of his pup, Rekkonji had no such responsibility and nothing to draw enjoyment from. He would have gone mad had he not been permitted to raise and maintain a small army of sorts. It kept him occupied, sharp, and fed both the Warmaster and the General a constant flow of information on the happenings in the territories, as well as the natures and fighting styles of the various entities there. Every warrior, scout, and spy within twenty miles that aligned with the White Inu Tribe had been trained or vetted by Rekkonji, and he took great pride in every successful student.

 

            Save for one.

 

            That student watched him from a distance, sheltered from the sun by a cherry tree in the nearby grove. The haughty sneer on Sesshoumaru’s face irritated the Warmaster, but he let the feeling pass through him like water. The young demon’s expression would be righted momentarily. Rekkonji lifted his arm and beckoned politely to Sesshoumaru who, like a spoiled house cat, took his time making his way over. Rekkonji had not planned on beginning Sesshoumaru’s new training regimen of etiquette as well as combat today, as was Touga’s request, but the near-swagger in the younger demon’s stride changed Rekkonji’s mind. Indeed, the next few weeks would be interesting.

 

“Good afternoon, Lord Sesshoumaru,” Rekkonji greeted the prince once he was standing before him.

 

Sesshoumaru smirked. “Warmaster.” He greeted in return, though in a casual manner and tone.

 

Rekkonji paused, then mirrored Sesshoumaru’s expression. “Let us try this again. I said, ‘Good afternoon, Lord Sesshoumaru.’” He maintained the politeness in his tone.

 

The young demon’s brow furrowed slightly, smirk fading. “I heard you well enough the first time.”

 

“Forgive me, but you did not respond in kind.” Rekkonji said. “Even if your opponent is not, one should always be polite when greeting and dealing with others.”

 

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed, following Rekkonji as he examined the field for any debris in preparation for their training. “I am here to practice combat, jackal, not receive an etiquette lesson.” He said, irritated now.

 

Rekkonji chuckled softly. “You will find that they are often intertwined, if not one and the same.” He could almost hear Sesshoumaru’s mind working through those words as the Warmaster strode to the place he had mentally marked as the center of their sparring area. He turned to face the young prince, watching as his delicate features morphed from contemplation to realization, then to displeasure.

 

“Father,” Sesshoumaru stated with an edged tone, and Rekkonji hummed in affirmation.

 

“’Words and war’ is what he told me” Rekkonji continued, “and so that is what we are going to practice in equal measure.”

 

Sesshoumaru harrumphed but moved to stand before the Warmaster. “Tell me, how does a self-proclaimed expert of war plan to teach the art of words? I do not believe it to be a talent of yours.” He sneered.

 

Rekkonji smiled as the young prince, as one might at an arrogant child. “I think you will find that you are being rude, again. And for all those ears of yours can hear, my lord, I do not think you often employ them to their true purpose; listening.”

 

Sesshoumaru resisted the urge to scowl. His father truly had infected the Warmaster with his nonsense. Rekkonji had never before spoken to Sesshoumaru in such a manner; as though he were a mere pup still in need of basic instruction. As Sesshoumaru continued to argue, Rekkonji’s words and tone grew flinty. Finally, Sesshoumaru accepted that today, at least, his father would get his way.

 

Once more, the Warmaster greeted Sesshoumaru, just as politely as the first time. “Good afternoon, Lord Sesshoumaru.”

 

Sesshoumaru hesitated, but relented, speaking only as politely as he was required. “Good afternoon, Warmaster.” Rekkonji’s satisfied expression gave Sesshoumaru hope that he would move on to the young daiyoukai’s more immediate interest.

 

            “Better,” Rekkonji said simply. “Tomorrow, perhaps, we can graduate from initial greetings.”

 

            Sesshoumaru’s features strained momentarily as he withheld a grimace. Finally, Rekkonji bowed and slipped into a deep stance. Sesshoumaru mirrored him. Grappling and hand-to-hand combat weren’t his preferred practices, but even those were better than senseless babbling. He narrowed his focus, quickly finding his center. Both demons stilled themselves, the very wind held its breath, and the world suspended between them for a long, tense moment.

 

Rekkonji moved in a flash, grasping at Sesshoumaru’s lapel. The younger demon sidestepped and captured Rekkonji’s wrist, intent on locking the jackal’s extended elbow. Rekkonji flicked his hand around to instead grab Sesshoumaru’s wrist, twisting his arm behind his back as Rekkonji slipped behind the younger demon and locked his arm around his neck in a tight choke hold. Sesshoumaru struggled, testing for weaknesses in the Warmaster’s grip, but there were none. Pride stinging, Sesshoumaru accepted the minor loss and tapped out.

 

The pair squared up again. This time, Sesshoumaru acted first, feigning a low kick to Rekkonji’s calf and making a grab for his exposed neck. Rekkonji twisted as easily as a leaf under Sesshoumaru, flipping the younger demon over his shoulder and slamming Sesshoumaru on his backside in the dirt. Sesshoumaru gritted his teeth with irritation but rose gracefully to his feet again to take a ready stance.

 

Over and over, Rekkonji avoided, thwarted, and turned Sesshoumaru’s attacks against him. Sesshoumaru’s irritation grew into frustration and sparked into rage as he failed time and again to succeed in bringing the Warmaster down. Through it all, the Warmaster showed no signs of effort or surprise. In fact, as Sesshoumaru squared with him once more, the jackal’s ruby eyes betrayed his sense of boredom.  Sesshoumaru growled as he came to understand. ' _He is toying with me; toying with this Sesshoumaru! Insolent bastard'!_ He thought; this insult was more than he could bear!

 

“Why do you not act more seriously, Warmaster? Do you fancy me an easy opponent?!” Sesshoumaru barked, lashing out in anger at Rekkonji with his claws. “Do not take me so lightly!”

 

Rekkonji avoided the strikes effortlessly and had Sesshoumaru on his backside in the dirt a moment later. Sesshoumaru was on his feet in a breath and resumed his pursuit. Rekkonji sighed to himself as he recognized the change in the young demon’s demeanor. Touga was also prone to emotional outbursts such as this; truly Sesshoumaru was his father’s son. The Warmaster ducked under another slash, letting Sesshoumaru’s own momentum slam him into Rekkonji’s elbow. He twisted out from under Sesshoumaru as he doubled over, stepping out of the prince’s reach.  

 

Sesshoumaru pressed a hand to his bruised stomach, swallowing a groan of pain. Slowly, he straightened and turned to face the Warmaster. Rekkonji showed no sign of concern as red feathered into the edges of Sesshoumaru’s eyes, his anger beginning to boil. The young prince had had enough of this. The repeated defeats, the blows to his pride, this indignant dismissal; he would suffer it no longer! He cracked his claws as they began to glow a venomous green and shifted to leap at the jackal…but a sound beyond the fight startled him out of his homicidal rage.

 

At a safe distance from the combatants, Touga stood in a comfortable summer yukata, lacking his usual armor. A marigold-clad attendant stood behind him holding a paper umbrella, shielding his broadly grinning face from the sun as he clapped. “Good, good!” the General cheered, then laughed.

 

Sesshoumaru could only blink in confusion. When had his father arrived? Sesshoumaru had not sensed him, heard him, smelled him; he was like a ghost! Rekkonji bowed to the General in greeting, acknowledging the presence he himself had noted the moment it had arrived.

 

Touga continued to chuckle. “Do not pause on my account. Please, carry on.” He tucked his arms into his sleeves, expectation written on his cheerful face.

 

Rekkonji examined Sesshoumaru as the young demon straightened himself to give a respectful bow to his father. It was easy for the Warmaster to read the petulant pup, who was so like his sire, and know there was no fruitful way to continue the training session now; not with Sesshoumaru in such a state and with Touga watching.

 

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Lord General; we were just wrapping up,” Rekkonji said politely.

 

“I see…” Touga frowned slightly for a moment. “Well perhaps, instead, I might take a turn? If I would not be intruding, of course.”

           

Rekkonji and Sesshoumaru exchanged glances before bowing to each other, and Sesshoumaru moved away. The Warmaster motioned invitingly to the empty space before him, which Touga happily stepped into. Sesshoumaru took his father’s former place under the paper umbrella to watch. Already, he could feel a difference in the Warmaster. He was tense in a way he had not been with Sesshoumaru; focused and anticipatory. Touga’s grin faded as he squared with Rekkonji, and they were still for only a moment before beginning.

 

            The pair moved almost too fast for Sesshoumaru to track. Barely a moment after they’d begun, Touga had Rekkonji on his back in the dirt where Sesshoumaru had been so many times that afternoon. The General helped the jackal to his feet again with a satisfied nod, squared, and the pair began again. Rekkonji reacted to the General like the threat he was and brought him down his fair share of times. Touga, however, dominated for the most part. As he pulled Rekkonji to his feet one last time, Sesshoumaru pursed his lips and considered. If he was so easily humiliated by the only being Sesshoumaru knew of that could rival his god-like father, then he himself was a far cry from being able to challenge and defeat his sire.

 

            Sesshoumaru found that the Warmaster’s regimen changed little over the following weeks. Rekkonji continued to belittle him at every turn and harshly enforced both social and battle etiquette. Sesshoumaru had not encountered this fastidious version of Rekkonji in prior training sessions. Had the Warmaster been lenient with Sesshoumaru his entire life? If so, why the sudden change? Was it only due to his father’s decree? Or did the jackal have…other designs? Sesshoumaru continued to ponder these things as he watched Aoki and the half-demon tend to his personal garden. He lounged comfortably just inside the doorway that led into his quarters from the veranda, finding relief from the summer heat in the breeze that came through the opening.

 

Gradually, Sesshoumaru concluded that he was being tested. The idea did not irritate him, for he understood that overcoming challenges was how one improved themselves. Still, he did not understand the purpose of including etiquette. Such menial things were the concerns of females and those lower in rank than himself. Slowly, he pursed his lips, making his features scowl. Aoki was the first to notice, ducking her head further as she plucked bits of stray foliage from between the rocks in the garden. The half-breed, either copying her or sensing his displeasure, ducked its head as well and flattened its ears until even the black tips were hidden almost completely in its hair.

 

Sesshoumaru fixed his gaze on the creature. It had been some time since his last excursion with it into the pine forest. A reassessment was long over-due. He wanted to know for certain if the thing had the capacity to become a tool worthy of his investment, and it would give him something to do other than nurse his bruised ego.

 

Kuroihi breathed a sigh of relief when Lord Sesshoumaru slipped back inside his quarters and closed the door behind him. She pressed her shaking hands against her legs, trying to steady them while she had the chance. Aoki didn’t scold her for pausing in her work, the same way she hadn’t scolded Kuroihi for any of her other mistakes since the three of them returned from their little trip; and despite her best efforts, her mistakes were many. Aoki and Kazawa simply took up the slack, lacking the energy to correct her. The fear their master had re-instilled in them didn’t allow the pair to let the mistakes pass unchecked, since he was punishing all three of them for every fault he found.

 

The rest of the day passed, and night found Aoki, Kazawa, and Kuroihi again with their master. Aoki smoothed Lord Sesshoumaru’s hair down his back with the comb in her hand before muttering that she was finished. Sesshoumaru roused from his shallow meditation, his honey-gold eyes opening slowly and taking in his surroundings as though for the first time that night.

 

He paused, then spoke softly. “You are dismissed.” His eyes flicked from Kazawa, to Aoki, then back again.

 

The two blinked for a moment, stunned and disbelieving; had they heard correctly? Would they finally be permitted rest?

 

Sesshoumaru’s lips quirked in a tender smile. “Would you prefer to stay by my side through the night?”

 

The pair ducked their heads, gathering the few items they’d brought in at their master’s request and shuffling out as quickly as good grace allowed. Kuroihi was about to follow them when Sesshoumaru snapped his fingers at her. Aoki and Kazawa idled just long enough to know it was not meant for them, then disappeared down the hall that led to the rest of the castle, anxious for their reprieve. Kuroihi silently cursed them for abandoning her so quickly…but then found she couldn’t blame them. She would have done the same had their positions been reversed.

 

Sesshoumaru rose from his zabuton and glided through his inner sanctum, through the door to the veranda, and over the wall into the wilds beyond. Kuroihi felt a pang of déjà vu as she followed him, her feet heavy with trepidation. They traveled the same path that led to the same forest and settled in the same small clearing as before when Lord Sesshoumaru had first interrogated her about her fire. Here once again, a similar scene played out, albeit with a great deal more hesitation and anxiety on Kuroihi’s end. What precious little energy she had was quickly spent, making the trip hardly worth the time and effort, and souring Sesshoumaru’s mood further.

 

He could not understand it. The half-breed had plenty of youki, even now; why had it been unable to produce its fire as well as it had before? Did its ragged state have something to do with it? He could hear the thing stumbling along behind him, its footfalls heavy and uneven, breathing hard and heart racing. The blatant weakness disgusted him, and he dismissed both the creature from his presence and all thoughts concerning it from his mind when he returned to the castle. He would allow it to rest before examining it again, though he doubted it would make a difference.After all, it was just a half-demon.

 

Kuroihi could hardly believe it when Lord Sesshoumaru dismissed her, but she was unwilling to question it and raced back to her storage room and little closet. She’d scarcely been so happy to tumble into the ragged textiles she called a bed, and she eagerly fell into sleep the moment her closet door was closed. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep, but not even Lord Sesshoumaru’s looming presence in her nightmares could cause her to wake. When her eyes finally opened again, it was well past dawn. She was late! Panic shot through her, ripping her from her bed, and urging along the less-traveled hallways so she would not be seen straightening her disheveled hair and clothes.

 

She met Aoki coming the other way as she entered the long hall that led from the rest of the castle to Lord Sesshoumaru’s quarters. The older female wrinkled her nose at her.

 

“So very honored you could join us.” Aoki snapped, her tone sharp and heavy with sarcasm. Kuroihi started to apologize for her tardiness, but Aoki waved her off. “Never mind that. Fetch the clothes from the drying line, and be quick about it!”

 

Kuroihi muttered that she understood and hurried off. Aside from Aoki’s lethal glances, there was no further scolding for Kuroihi’s being late. That night, to all their surprise, Lord Sesshoumaru again dismissed his servants for rest. Had his temper calmed? Would they be permitted to resume a relatively normal schedule? It appeared that way. Finally allowed to leave his side, the trio was at last able to replace the painted shouji doors their master had destroyed weeks prior. They fell back into their usual ebb and flow of work, and all seemed to be as it had been before.

 

Every other night or so Sesshoumaru ~~,~~ took Kuroihi out to the pine forest to experiment with her fire. Each time, she ensured he returned to the castle disappointed. At this point, she was convinced there was something about her ability he either wanted to know or to use. Why else would he continue to go to such lengths with a creature as lowly as her? This was beyond a passing curiosity, but less than an established goal. Whatever it was he sought, Kuroihi was determined to deny him. While her ribs had healed, she hadn’t forgotten why they’d been broken in the first place.

 

For his part, Sesshoumaru was finally convinced the half-breed was unworthy. Its ability was little more than a fluke, too insignificant for his use, and the creature itself was troublesome. He was aware of Aoki and Kazawa’s opinion that they would be better off without the thing, and Sesshoumaru found himself of the same mind as them. In fact, the castle itself would be better off without it. After all, what could a mere half-breed possibly have to contribute, especially to a being such as his honorable father? Knowing he would be leaving to accompany his father to meet with the Tengu tribe within the next few days, Sesshoumaru decided to take care of the pest before he departed.

 

            Once more, Sesshoumaru led Kuroihi away from the castle. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, was…wrong. It worsened as she realized they were not headed for the pine forest, but somewhere beyond it and outside the General’s realm of influence. Sesshoumaru diverted from the beaten path and she had no choice but to follow. It was dawn by the time he finally paused, and Kuroihi stifled another yawn as she examined the landscape in greater detail. They were standing on the edge of a ravine somewhere in the mountains. The morning had yet to dissipate, shrouding most of the path both in front of and behind them. Glancing over the edge, Kuroihi couldn’t see the bottom through the swirls of white, but suspected it was farther down than one could survive falling. Her feet tingled anxiously as she backed away.

 

“Remind me, hanyou,” Sesshoumaru’s tone was bored as he spoke, “how was it a thing like you came to be in service to my great father?”

 

            Kuroihi blinked, unsure how to answer. Even she didn’t know. “…My lord must forgive his servant, she does not know. Perhaps Lord Fuyutoka could say.”

 

“I see… Then perhaps you could tell me what significant service you offer that any other being at the castle cannot?” His tone betrayed that he already knew the answer.

 

Kuroihi licked her lips. “I…” She tried desperately to think of something, anything, but aside from her fire there was nothing special about her, no task that only she could complete. She quietly bowed her head in concession. Inside, something screamed that she needed to run, right now, but her feet would not move.

 

Sesshoumaru’s lips twisted into a smirk. “No answer? Then, I assume you understand. Still, I will clarify.” Kuroihi’s eyes tracked the movement of his boots as he slowly began to circle around her. “You are useless and troublesome, half-breed, an unwelcomed burden your betters have no need of nor time to oversee. Your continued presence is superfluously annoying, most especially to me.”

 

Kuroihi’s heart stuck in her throat, and she swallowed hard against it. She could not argue his points, each was valid, but just what was he intending? He began striding toward her and she stepped back. Every time he advanced she retreated until she felt the edge of the cliff under her heel and she was forced to hold her ground. There was barely a meter between them when he flared his jyaki. It startled her, and she took an involuntary step back. Nothing was there to catch her, and Sesshoumaru moved to the edge of the cliff to watch her fall.

 

The world seemed to slow for Kuroihi. Sesshoumaru’s face twisted into an arrogant and victorious smirk above her, and she could sense the ground rushing to meet her as she flailed. She watched her meager life flash before her eyes, ticking off every time she simply bowed her head and accepted whatever cruelty came her way. Was this how it ended, with her little more than a crumpled heap at the bottom of a ravine?

 

_'No…NO!’_

There was so much more to life than what she’d experienced and she wanted it, she _burned_ for it. She refused to fade away simply because _he_ demanded it of her. Scorching black feathered from her fingertips as livid hatred boiled up inside her and overflowed. Her demon instincts screamed in a way she’d never heard before; and she listened. She pushed all her youki out around her in a cloud and ignited it. She felt her fire change. The flames became thick and tangible, gathering beneath her, and she curled tightly into herself to brace for the impact she couldn’t stop. She slammed into the ground on her side. Air rushed from her lungs, stars exploded behind her eyes, and the world went black.

 

Kuroihi woke sometime later, her entire left side aching and a sizable bump on her head; she was _alive_... Her first thought was to sit up and assess the damage but the familiar weight of Lord Sesshoumaru’s jyaki made her think twice. He was near, that _bastard_ was near, and she was certain he was watching her. And she was alive.

 

‘ _Just play dead. That’s what he wanted, make him think he succeeded’_

 

The tufts of her ears tingled, picking the shifting of the air as he came closer.

 

‘ _Don’t move, don’t breathe.’_

 

“…Get up.” His tone was even, heavy with authority.

 

She didn’t move, she didn’t breathe.

 

“Fool, I can hear your heart still beating.” Kuroihi bit back a wince as he nudged her roughly onto her back with his boot. “I said, ‘get up’.”

 

At the very least, she could say she tried... She pushed herself up carefully with her good arm, peering carefully up at him through her bangs for a moment. Her head swam, and the sharp throbbing in it forced her to drop her gaze to a more comfortable level at his knees. All the better; his expression was disturbing.

 

Sesshoumaru wore a genuine smile as he lowered to crouch in front of the hanyou. The air was still thick with that rich, metallic scent its fire gave off. The smell irritated his nose, but he endured it. He had watched the creature disappear into the mist of the ravine, watched its dark light shine out from the depths, desperate and black and purple. Yes; purple. The fire had changed color, as well as properties, he surmised, judging from the absence of any scorch marks on the rocks or ground. But had it only been an accident? Could this miserable creature truly be capable of permanent growth? He needed to know, to see with his own eyes…

 

“Make your fire,” he commanded quietly.

 

It shrank away from him, and he flared his jyaki again in warning. He would not repeat himself. Slowly, it pulled the arm it was not leaning on into its lap, pooled its youki, and sparked the black and purple flames. They clung only to its skin, gave off no heat, and did not burn anything they touched. They danced as any flame would, but their movement was slower, as though they had weight to them. He hummed with satisfaction. In what other ways could this creature’s power change, he wondered?

 

Sesshoumaru hooked a clawed finger under Kuroihi’s chin, purring. “Perhaps you might still be of some use, little hanyou.”

 

            His skin was cold and Kuroihi shuddered. Nothing that pleased Lord Sesshoumaru so much could be good for her.


	10. Chapter 9: Rat in a Cage

_A/N: I want to take a moment to thank everyone for their continued readership and all the awesome comments I've received. They really do keep me going and let me know the story is still enjoyable. I also want to thank my beta reader, who has been a real hero for me as I continue revising this story. Again, thank you everyone!_

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            It was mid-morning by the time Sesshoumaru returned to the castle with the hanyou. He retraced his steps over the wall and onto his veranda, sending the creature inside once it caught up. Alone, he made his way to the practice fields to speak with the Warmaster. Sesshoumaru wanted to test the half-breed against greater dangers to see if and how its fire would adapt again, which would require traveling further from the castle than before to avoid any of his father’s scouts spying his great self with the thing. That creature was unfit in its current state to make such a journey, however, and he was unwilling to allow its weakness to become his burden. It required training. Even the most basic would suffice, but how to accomplish that without seeming to give the hanyou more attention than it deserved? To that end, Sesshoumaru decided he would have Kazawa included in the training.

The young prince presumed it would be effortless for the Warmaster to handle both servants, but Sesshoumaru would not mention the hanyou specifically. The thought of Rekkonji’s expression when he discovered that creature to be his second charge for the task made Sesshoumaru’s lips curl malevolently. Being forced to manage the thing would be a wonderful vengeance for the disgraceful manner in which the Warmaster had been treating this Sesshoumaru. Yes, this would work well, indeed. By his estimate, the journey with his father would take perhaps a month. While he did not consider it an adequate amount of time for the Warmaster to suffer for what he had done, it would surely be long enough for even the hanyou to be prepared for what the young prince had planned.

            Sesshoumaru watched from a distance as Rekkonji finished his current session with one of his lieutenants, and he waited for the other demon to move before approaching. Sesshoumaru braced mentally, readying for the short game of polite wordplay he knew he would have to endure. Rekkonji was surprised to see the young prince today, but offered him an appropriate greeting nevertheless.

“Good afternoon, my lord.” Rekkonji addressed Sesshoumaru politely. “Forgive me, I thought today you would be preparing to leave with your father.”

 “Good afternoon, Warmaster. Indeed, chichi-ue and I will be leaving soon. I have many preparations to make, including a few for my return, if it would not be a burden.” Rekkonji blinked, nearly shocked by Sesshoumaru’s graceful and courteous language, and gave a slight nod for him to continue. “Once father’s business is complete, I desire to leave the castle for a time. It is only proper that a lord be attended, yet those who would join me seem more suited to stitching and gardening…” He let his tone trail off.

Rekkonji read the unspoken parts of Sesshoumaru’s statements; he wanted the Warmaster to train his servants while he was away, and he considered for a moment. “It would be my honor to assist my lord with finding a solution to this predicament in whatever way I am able. My lord has but to ask.”

“I am grateful, then, that father’s Warmaster is so generous and considerate.” Sesshoumaru’s tone was strained, unable to obfuscate that his words were contrived, and Rekkonji winced inwardly.

The Warmaster exchanged a polite nod with the young prince nevertheless. ‘ _At least he is making an attempt on his own…’_ He thought to himself as he watched Sesshoumaru return to the castle. ‘ _That is more than I honestly expected so soon.’_

Inside with Aoki and Kazawa, Kuroihi was lost in thought. She found it difficult to move past the fact that she was alive at all and back in this place. The incident at the mountain played in her mind over and over, and she imagined such a tumble would have been trivial to someone like the General or even the ogre she’d encountered with Aoki and Kazawa. For her, however, it most assuredly would have been lethal.

‘ _If not for that purple fire…’_ she thought.

She stared at her hands in wonderment. She’d never felt or seen anything like those flames before. What else was she capable of? She felt she had grown stronger and more resilient just in the past two months; she was even healing faster than before. If she continued to endure these hardships at her master’s hand, could she grow strong enough to make it on her own? Would she even survive that long? As far as she understood, half-breeds only lived for about 500 years at best, and she was already nearing 200. The castle kept her soft, weak, and ignorant, but it also kept her safe. Would she be wise to instead remain and live out her life in relative peace?

Yes, but no.

She refused to die in this place. She would leave here, make a life of her own whatever it may be, and maybe even find her family. Such things had only been distant fantasies to her before, now she believed them possible. She would _make_ them so. The thought soothed her heart and she clung to it. The goal was clear, but the path was still undefined. She didn’t have to decide this very moment, though, so instead reveled in miracle of her continued existence and the warm peace it brought her. Unfortunately, the peace was short-lived. Sesshoumaru arrived in his quarters sometime later, bringing along the foreboding air that followed wherever he went. No matter how she tried, Kuroihi could not stop her hope from twisting again into hate at the very sight of the man that had tried to murder her. It only served to strengthen her conviction.

The rest of that day and all the next were spent readying the General and his son for their journey north to the Tengu tribe holdings. Armor and weapons were tested and polished, kimonos were stitched and boots were preened. Touga chatted idly with his retainers, while Sesshoumaru’s worked in their usual tense silence. On the morning of departure, Sesshoumaru addressed his servants.

“The Warmaster has been gracious enough to extend an opportunity for you to improve your meager combat talents in my absence.” He purred with condescension. “You will also have my winter kimono repaired when I return.”

Each of them murmured their understanding, exchanging a variety of expressions with each other as they finished readying their lord for his journey. Once everything was complete, Aoki and Kazawa followed Sesshoumaru out to the courtyard to send him off while Kuroihi remained behind in Sesshoumaru’s quarters.

Her master’s words slithered like ice in Kuroihi’s veins, twisting in her stomach and making her nauseous. Sesshoumaru had specified the stitch work to exclude Aoki from the Warmaster’s training, but nothing for Kuroihi. She was meant to join Kazawa on the practice field. It was not the thought of the training that made her uneasy, but the level of exposure such an endeavor would require. Of course there were vassals at the castle that knew of Kuroihi’s presence, but they were few and bound to silence through propriety. To acknowledge or speak of the hanyou was nearly taboo. How would the others who were unaware of her react when she began parading around one of the Warmaster’s practice fields? Out in plain view, no doubt making a ruckus that would only draw more attention to her.

Kuroihi swallowed the bile rising in her throat and fought against the creeping fear of social censure. She had to endure it; the whispers, the inevitable harassment. She would have no future beyond these walls if she could not.

______________________________________________________________________________

As was usual in Touga’s absence, Rekkonji was left in charge of the castle-base. He made no attempt to meddle in Fuyutoka’s management of the vassals and day-to-day tasks, for they were neither his concern nor forte, and instead focused on the request Sesshoumaru had made of him. Through Fuyutoka and Touga, he was aware of Sesshoumaru’s current detail of servants, and so prepared only for Kazawa. It was well known that Aoki was not suited to combat and thus not expected to be included, and Rekkonji presumed the same was true of the female half-breed he’d heard Sesshoumaru had been toying with lately. Exactly why the young prince was doing so was beyond him, but that, too, was none of his business.

Once he was ready, Rekkonji sent for Kazawa to join him on one of the small practice fields. To his surprise, Kazawa arrived with the hanyou in tow. The pair bowed to the Warmaster in respectful greeting, and he took a moment to examine them both. Kazawa was much the same as Rekkonji remembered, but the half-breed was quite different. Was this truly the same whelp that had been tossed to Touga and himself all those decades ago? Yes, there was no mistaking those ears, nor her half-breed scent. The last time Rekkonji had seen her, she’d been no taller than his navel, her ears floppy and covered in peach fuzz. Now, she came to about his shoulder, her ears were stiff and alert and had full tufts of black fur at the ends. All in all, a healthy specimen.

_‘Remarkable that she has remained here for so long,’_ he thought to himself, _‘I expected her to have fled or faded into obscurity by now.’_ He resisted the urge to frown. ‘ _Sesshoumaru cannot be planning anything good for this creature, to have her trained like this.’_

But, again, it was not his business.

“It has been some time, Kazawa-san,” Rekkonji said, exchanging a polite nod with the younger male before turning his attention to the half-breed, “but I do not think I am yet acquainted with you, female.”

Rekkonji’s tone indicated he expected an introduction from her, but Kuroihi’s throat closed up and her mouth ran dry. His lack of condescension only put her on edge, and all she could do was drop her head in acknowledgement of his words.

Rekkonji blinked. “She is unable to speak?” he asked Kazawa, who shook his head in the negative, then looked back to the female. “I see. Then…” His tone trailed, silently offering her a second opportunity to speak for herself. He could hear her heart race, could smell her apprehension. She was reacting like a prey creature.

Kazawa nudged Kuroihi with his elbow, lips pursed in embarrassment with her, and it freed her throat enough for her to speak. Her voice came out as a strained whisper, for she was as equally ashamed of her inability to respond appropriately due to her own fear. “This one is sometimes called ‘Kuroihi’, honorable Warmaster.” She bent almost completely at the waist in a formal bow.

Rekkonji grunted, satisfied, and nodded his head just so in return. “A pleasure to meet you. I am Rekkonji. I presume you are both aware of your purpose here.” He said, addressing them both. Each nodded that they understood, and he continued. “Good, then let us begin.”

            For the first few days, Rekkonji ran the pair through basic assessment exercises. He was unsurprised to find Kazawa was fairly adept, while Kuroihi was all but lost. In fact, she was hesitant to move at all, seeming to expect some form of castigation from the slightest motions. If Kazawa felt the same way, he either did not show it or was used to it at this point. By the end of the fourth day, Rekkonji was nearly grinding his teeth with irritation.

‘ _Sesshoumaru is well within his rights, and she **is** just a half-demon… Still, this conditioning from that temper of his makes it difficult for her training to progress.’ _  Rekkonji thought to himself, wondering if she could be trained at all. He had a task to complete, however, and a challenge of sorts from the young prince to answer. ‘ _I’ll not let my reputation be sullied because of that entitled brat’s ignorant idiosyncrasies.’_

            Instead of addressing the situation directly, which would be crass, Rekkonji lectured them on the importance of having a broad and clear field of vision. To enforce his point, he took them into the nearby wilds, running them through ambush and tracking drills. Soon, the hanyou rose her head of her own accord during practice, and Rekkonji marked a distinct improvement in her performance as the weeks passed. She moved on her own, learned to anticipate, and was often more enthusiastic than Kazawa. To Rekkonji’s surprise, she went so far as to volunteer during an archery exercise.

            The Warmaster’s question of who would take their shots first was a formality, really. In proper form, it should have been the older and higher ranking Kazawa. When he hesitated, however, Kuroihi stepped forward and waited for Rekkonji’s permission to begin. It was an arrogant gesture for one such as her, but with no protest from Kazawa, the Warmaster let it pass. Her racing heart and shaking hands as she took aim betrayed that she understood the significance of what she had done. But the look in her eyes told Rekkonji that these were not the actions of upstart scraping for status, but a creature with the desire to survive.

            The half-breed was a tenacious and determined thing, it seemed, and the Warmaster was confidant she would be ready by the time Sesshoumaru returned.

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            While Rekkonji might have been satisfied with Kuroihi’s performance, the same could not be said about Fuyutoka. The Overseer was in an absolute tizzy. For decades, he had struggled to keep that filthy mongrel hidden, and now all the staff was abuzz with the news: there was a half-demon in the castle! Everyone knew the General was considered kind-hearted for a demon, still they could hardly believe it. Why was such a creature here? For how long? And for her to don Lord Sesshoumaru’s slate grey, why, the scandal was almost more than any of them could stand! Wild suppositions spread in whispers behind sleeves and fans or in the baths. The older servants and those already aware of Kuroihi’s presence held their tongues in accordance with propriety, viciously scolding the younger and gossip-prone.

No matter what they thought personally, none at the castle had the right to question their masters’ motivations or to slander their reputations, even unintentionally. Slowly, the gossip faded back into silence. Some of the servants decided that if they could not speak of the half-breed, they would acknowledge her existence in their own ways. Turning a blind eye to their activities, Fuyutoka silently encouraged them.

The castle seemed to have its own pulse now, and Kuroihi was painfully attuned to it. The walls seemed to echo the unintelligible whispers of the other staff, shadows crawled along the walls when no one else was around, and the already cramped space of her tiny closet seemed to shrink. She began waking in the night, swearing she heard the sounds of people outside the storage room where she slept, or from the passing of a dark figure across the open window slats. Each incident shot a new thread of panic through her until every muscle in her body ached from the constant tension.

Kuroihi returned one night to find her storage room had been visited while she was on the training field. There were footprints in the dust on the floor where there hadn’t been before. Perhaps one of the rare quartermaster visits to sift through some of the General’s old things? She had seen back rooms like her own subjected to such searches before. Yes, that had to be it. When she found items in the room had been shifted about, she took it as a confirmation of her suspicions and found comfort in the thought. ‘ _They shouldn’t be back again, not for another two decades or so._ ’, she thought. But then her tattered blanket went missing, and bits of the ratty textiles she used as padding atop her thin and hard futon slowly began disappearing. This wasn’t the quartermaster’s doing after all, and she could barely smell anything through the dust and musk to discover who the culprits were. She considered finding a new place to sleep at that point. Someone clearly knew where she stayed and was taunting her.

The night she came back to discover her futon gutted and its contents scattered about the room forced her to act. She had no choice but to leave her closet now. She absconded to the relative safety of the castle sublevel, but it served her well for only a few nights. Somehow, she was discovered again, and as she fled to find another dark corner to hide in, she swore she saw the silhouette of Aoki down the hall. The set of the older female’s shoulders and particular hairstyle were hard to mistake, even as the shape melted into the darkness of a distant hall. Was she the one divulging Kuroihi’s whereabouts? Kuroihi suspected so, perhaps in league with the furious and shamed Fuyutoka. He had failed to keep the half-breed’s presence a secret, and from what Kuroihi over heard, his underlings were teasing him for it in their own ways. Perhaps this was his manner of atonement.

Kuroihi continued to slip from closet to closet, between floors, and into every nook and cranny that she could find to evade her pursuers. They continued to track and corner her, sometimes loitering noisily outside or rapping on the door to her hiding place, other times going so far as to pull from her sleeping space and chase her through the halls. This was a hunt now, and she was the rabbit. She could not leave the castle, for she would not survive, and yet she could not stay. She’d employed every hiding place available to her several times over, failing each time to elude her hunters. How did they manage it every night, and why did they persist? What had she done to deserve their torment, and where else could she possibly go?!

An idea dawned on her one night, twisted and perverted: Lord Sesshoumaru’s quarters.

She despised the idea of returning to his wing any sooner than she had to, for nothing but nightmares awaited her there, but it was the only place she could think where the rest of the staff simply would not venture.… But what if she was wrong? Just how far would they go for their entertainment? Would they risk the ire and abuse of her master? The more she thought about it, the more tolerable the idea became. If they did choose to follow her into that place, to trespass in the dastardly prince’s domain, Lord Sesshoumaru would know of it when he returned with his father and would most certainly make his displeasure known.

Kuroihi scolded herself for her own temerity, but found she was truly out of options. Ever so carefully, she secured a place for herself beyond the painted shouji doors and waited. The first night passed, and then another, and another, and there was nothing. She’d finally found somewhere she could sleep in peace, somewhere she could be safe. It was almost ironic, to seek shelter here, but it was working. She would have to find another place again when her master returned, but she could handle that when the time came. She closed every window in her new room, locked the door to the closet every night, and prayed for her faceless ancestors to keep her safe.


	11. Chapter 10: Tantrum

 

Five weeks passed. The season had turned to autumn now, and what was once green had turned gold and brown. Well within the borders of his personal territory, the General alighted down with his son to complete the final leg of their journey on foot. The older demon could feel the scowl on the younger one’s face as they walked together, and it was easy for him to pinpoint the cause.

“You are still attempting to reconcile my lack of action against those human hunters with your own understanding, are you not, my son?” The General ventured.

Sesshoumaru’s expression did not alter. “My honored father is keenly perceptive.” He replied with an even tone.

Touga hummed to himself and slowed his pace. “Speak, that I might guide you.”

Sesshoumaru matched his father’s stride and slipped his arms into his sleeves, eyes fixed on the castle that slowly rose from the horizon in the distance. “The vermin that are mortals are weak and ineffectual, accomplishing little more than scraping through the dirt for sustenance during their insignificant lifespans and focusing only on their own menial lives. For this reason, a disregard for them is acceptable. The same cannot be said of these arrogant ‘demon slayers’, the taijiya. Their very purpose is to track down and attempt to destroy our kind. Thus, the intentions of each of their warriors is clear.  On principle, every challenge deserves to be answered in kind and one’s honor must be maintained.  Therefore, I do not understand why you allowed the taijiya we encountered to escape after striking out at us.”

Touga chuckled. “Do they make you worry for your health, my son?”

Sesshoumaru’s jyaki flared with rage at the insinuation. “A dragon does not worry for the strength of a worm.”

“Then what does the dragon concern itself with?” Touga prodded.

“Principle, chichi-ue, and his honor.”

“What honor is there to be found in swatting a fly?” Touga’s question was rhetorical.

Sesshoumaru pursed his lips and repeated himself. “Each challenge deserves to be answered in kind, lest one allow their reputation to weaken.”

“A rash and unwise action can be just as damaging.” The General said slowly, his tone sagely. “As an aside; mortal though they may be, the taijiya fill a notable role in maintaining the balance of power between their kind and the myriad of malicious lesser demons and spirits which plague them. They have no interest in entities such as ourselves, we being so removed from the world of mortals.”

Sesshoumaru’s voice remained even and bland. “Father has discovered this in what manner?”

Touga chuckled. “Myouga-san has become quite useful these past centuries.”

“Old Myouga…” Sesshoumaru mused. “That wrinkled old flea demon?”

“The very same. He has made himself a welcomed visitor to the demon slayer’s camp, coming and going as he pleases.”

“I see. Then he brings information concerning their methods of eradication and movements." Sesshoumaru concluded aloud. “Father’s allies are myriad and numerous.”

Touga paused and turned to face his son. “True power and excellence are rarely achieved with fang or claw alone; nor are honor and renown to be found in solitude.” His tone was thick with sincerity.

Sesshoumaru could not ignore the weight of his father’s voice, even though his words were absurd. A chuckle escaped the younger demon as his expression betrayed his droll demeanor. “Another morsel of wisdom to reflect on?”

Touga gave an affirmative grunt. “You will understand it fully with time, I think.”

As his father resumed his trek back to the castle in a some-what agreeable mood, Sesshoumaru saw an opportunity. He had not yet informed his father he would be leaving the castle accompanied. Were he making a solitary excursion, there would be no need for tact, however each of his servants was still technically the General’s vassal; even the half-breed.

“To understand requires experience, is that not so?” Sesshoumaru mentioned off-handedly, and the General gave another affirming hum. “Then, father would not find it disagreeable were I to leave the castle for a time.”

Touga hesitated before replying. “You will be attended?”

“Aoki shall remain.” Sesshoumaru said simply, almost as though to reassure his father.

“To what end will you take along Kazawa and the hanyou?” There was a hint of suspicion in Touga’s voice. He was more concerned for the welfare of those that would accompany his son than for the adherence to decorum.

Sesshoumaru continued without hesitation. “It is only proper that one of my rank be attended, is it not? They are suited to the hazards of travel.”

Touga glanced to the young prince following along beside him, marigold eyes darkened with his deepening suspicion, and he could only grunt again that he accepted his son’s justification. 

Both daiyoukai were silent for the remainder of their travel, mulling over their respective concerns. Touga’s thoughts revolved around his son’s violent idiosyncrasies and temper, as well as the safety and treatment of the vassals who serviced the young prince. Sesshoumaru’s mind had moved beyond thoughts of his father’s opinion to how he would achieve his ends with the half-breed. The finely-tended grove that surrounded the castle walls sprang up around them, and a chorus of alerting calls from the guards rose as the males neared the castle and passed through its front gates. Fuyutoka, Aoki, and the General’s attendants hurried outside and into place to welcome their masters’ home. Sesshoumaru idled in the courtyard for a moment with Aoki, watching the General continue his way inside with his own attendants. Fuyutoka avoided Sesshoumaru’s gaze, and the young prince noted the hawk’s deflated demeanor as he shuffled along behind them, eager for a moment of the General’s time.

Sesshoumaru made his way toward his own quarters, waiting until he had rounded the corner along the veranda to recognize Aoki’s presence, then paused to address her.

“Where is Rekkonji?” He asked plainly.

Aoki, ever the image of propriety, kept her eyes down as she spoke. “The Warmaster is at the practice field behind the castle, sire, seeing to the request you made of him.” There was something altered about her demeanor as well, though Sesshoumaru could not quite place it.

“I see.” He tilted his head as he examined her, attempting to define what had changed. “There is a shameful air about you, female. Have you disgraced yourself in my absence?” He growled.

“My lord, I have not.” Aoki replied softly.

“Hn.” Sesshoumaru did not believe her, and narrowed his gaze until the weight of it forced Aoki to her knees.

“My lord, it is simply that…” Aoki hesitated, her tone trailing. “…the hanyou…”

“What of it?” Sesshoumaru snapped. With his father’s conundrum nibbling at the back of his mind, he had not the patience for her evasive words.

“Her-“ Aoki shook her head slightly, choosing to adopt her master’s vernacular. “Its presence and the nature of its service here has been discovered by the whole of the castle.”

“Indeed.” Sesshoumaru was not surprised by this news, though the manner in which Aoki delivered it told him what she had not said about the denizens’ reactions. It was of little concern to the daiyoukai. Were any of them to show him even a modicum of disrespect, he would simply correct their behavior. He abandoned Aoki in his quarters and made his way to the practice field she had indicated.

Sesshoumaru found the hanyou and Kazawa there, stepping through a faux sparing match as the Warmaster paced a circle around them and observed. Sesshoumaru placed himself at the edge of the practice space to watch as well, and found only disappointment. His servants were slow and inelegant, fumbling with their wooden bouken swords and tripping over their feet. Each motion came more hesitantly until both had nearly paused.

“Do not stop. Complete the kata.” Rekkonji commanded as he came around to stand near Sesshoumaru. Both servants had sensed their master’s presence, Rekkonji was sure of it. He did not greet the young prince, instead crossing his arms and continuing to watch Kuroihi and Kazawa.

Rekkonji knew why they hesitated, knew why the hanyou’s gaze fell and her ears flattened into her hair; and it irked him. It was inevitable that one of them would falter with their master nearby. Sure enough, Kuroihi failed to move into her blocking stance in time, and Kazawa’s bouken struck her across the face. She stumbled and allowed herself to fall to the ground, sitting up on her hands. Normally, she would have recovered her footing after such a minor blow, but every ounce of tenacity and confidence she had scraped together over these past weeks dissolved the moment she’d caught the scent of poison on the air. Kazawa flustered for a moment, unsure of how to continue. He glanced around for the Warmaster, attempting to find guidance. Instead, he beheld the monster with honey-gold eyes. Kazawa abandoned the pretense of continuing the training and gave his master a full and formal bow.

Rekkonji ground his teeth. ‘ _And they were doing so well…’_ He thought irritably. He steeled his expression and finally addressed the young prince with a placid tone. “Welcome home, Lord Sesshoumaru. I trust the journey was without incident.”

Sesshoumaru ignored the Warmaster’s pleasantry. “They are prepared?” He asked expectantly.

_'How quickly the young prince has forgotten all pretense of formality and respect.'_ Rekkonji thought as he bit the inside of his lip to keep from scowling. “They will weather the road well enough. Were I to have more time with them-“

“This will do.” Sesshoumaru stated with authority, cutting Rekkonji off. He motioned for his servants to fall in line and made his way back to the castle. Kazawa followed immediately.

The Warmaster remained placid as Kuroihi gathered the practice weapons and offered them to him. He considered her as she bowed, servile again. Once Sesshoumaru was out of earshot, he took the bouken from her, noting how she kept her head ducked even now.

“…Head up.” He said softly, but firmly, then waved her off to catch up with her abhorrent master. Rekkonji waited for the sun to begin its decline toward the western horizon before seeking a private audience with the General. The Warmaster had many words for his friend concerning the young prince.

______________________________________________________________________________

Kuroihi’s feet grew heavier with each step as she made her way to Lord Sesshoumaru’s wing. Her worry was two-fold: where would she sleep tonight, and what was her master plotting? He was not so magnanimous as to have Kazawa and herself endure such training for their own benefit. By now she understood that it was no use trying to anticipate, though; she would simply have to steel herself for the inevitable suffering ahead. Sure enough, once Sesshoumaru had refreshed himself and the sun had set, he commanded Kuroihi to follow as he made his way beyond the walls of the castle once again. They passed the pine forest and moved beyond the General’s area of immediate influence, taking a road Kuroihi was unfamiliar with. At least he was not aiming to return to the ravine where he had failed to murder her…

Sesshoumaru trekked south west at a reasonable pace for the better part of three days with the half-breed hustling along behind him. His instincts told him when he left the territory his father’s scouts frequented, and so he began his search both for an area to test the hanyou once more and a bit of territory to call his own. His father’s sentiments had been softening over the decades, and every time Sesshoumaru broached the subject he was brushed off on account of his father’s ‘wisdom’. Worse yet, the elder demon was attempting to pollute Sesshoumaru with those weaknesses. The young prince could tolerate it no longer. If his father would not see reason, then Sesshoumaru would release him from his disgrace. That, however, required Sesshoumaru to achieve a power far beyond his current limitations. Usurping the General would be no easy task; however doing so only after he lost face would be no great victory and earn Sesshoumaru no renown. The young daiyoukai had to act quickly.

So immersed was he in his own machinations that he did not notice the trio of bandits that had situated themselves to obstruct the narrow path he traversed. They brandished their flimsy swords, barking for Sesshoumaru to surrender all his possessions, as well as the female, or be cut down. Their audacity amused him to a point, but he had no time to toy with them. He tilted his head just enough to glance back at the nervous hanyou.

“Clear these cretins from my path.” He commanded in an aloof tone.

Kuroihi flinched. Sesshoumaru had not spoken a word, let alone to her, since they’d left the castle, and the sudden attention was startling. Hesitantly, she moved forward to examine the creatures she was meant to challenge. The first thing she noticed, aside from their vulgar language, was how badly they smelled; like a horse stall long neglected. She resisted the urge to cover her nose with her sleeve. Was this the inherent human stench she’d heard Lord Sesshoumaru and others at the castle complain about? The more she examined them, the more repulsive they became to her. Their sloppy topknots and sagging armor, the filthy cloth wrapped around their waists and the sheening film of grime that covered their bodies; even in her worst state, Kuroihi had never been so bedraggled. They guffawed at her, a mere female, as she glanced back at her master, uncertain of how to proceed.

“Dispose of them.” He reiterated his command firmly.

Kuroihi’s ears flattened, but she turned to face the three humans again. Unlike them, she had no weapons or armor of her own. ‘ _I will simply have to take one of theirs, I suppose…’_ she thought. Apprehension clawed at her like cold steel, making her hesitate again even as one of the bandits advanced on her. With Rekkonji present for her faux battles with Kazawa, there had always been a sense of safety, that none of them would do any real damage to the other, but such was not the case here. She could feel Sesshoumaru’s jyaki vibrate behind her, and he growled, enunciating each word as if speaking to a child.

“Kill them, _hanyou,_ or your own corpse shall join theirs shortly.”

The raw bloodlust in his voice sparked her into panicked action. She slammed her foot into the advancing bandit’s torso, shoving him back into his comrades. The Warmaster’s lessons echoed in her mind and she did her best to heed them. ‘ _Keep moving, don’t take the obvious target, strike quick and solid, stay out of range.’_ The last part was the most difficult. With their three against her one, it was easy for them to keep her surrounded. She could only hope to wear them down before she was exhausted herself.

A last-second duck here, a clumsy strike there; Sesshoumaru watched the half-breed stumble through its combat with waning patience. By the time the thing managed to fell two of the three bandits, it had torn its clothing and managed to splatter itself with human blood. As it squared with the remaining bandit, Sesshoumaru flicked out his mokomoko to knock it out of the way. He had lost enough daylight to what should have been a simple slaughter.Stepping forward himself, Sesshoumaru felt little pleasure as he drenched the last mortal in a spray of acid from his toxic claws. The hanyou’s face twisted in horror as the bandit dissolved, leaving nothing behind.

 “Useless fool…” He muttered loud enough for the half-breed to hear.

Kuroihi watched her master kick one of the remaining bodies unceremoniously out of his path and resume his course. She had never felt as isolated as she did now, forced to scramble back into line behind him lest she be left behind or deemed as insignificant as the dissolved bandit. ‘ _Such terrible power he wields, and with so little consideration…’_ she thought as she followed him quietly, still unarmed, and she shuddered, imagining there was no atrocity he was unwilling to commit.

            The confrontation with the bandits replayed in her mind as they traversed the miles. As much as it turned her stomach to admit, Kuroihi found herself agreeing with Sesshoumaru’s general sentiment concerning mortals. Those three were the first of their kind she had ever encountered, and she’d found them repulsive in every way. She suspected all humans were similar to those males, seeing how she understood humans to be like ants; too numerous and similar to each other for their own good. As such, there was little acclaim to be earned from defeating a pair of such creatures.

Still, she _had_ killed them and escaped mostly unscathed. Surely there was something to be said for that. An infant viciousness bloomed in the same dark place deep inside where Kuroihi kept her still-smoldering hatred tucked away, and it tingled with pride. She had defeated something, _killed_ something; she was finally _greater_ than something! The high of victory was interrupted by the nagging in the back of her mind that she recognized as the human part of herself. _’Were their deaths necessary? Could simply knocking them unconscious not have served the same purpose?’_ She shook the thoughts away angrily. It was an internal debate she knew she would have to face at some point, but it could wait.

The days passed quickly, and Sesshoumaru continued to throw the hanyou into greater and greater conflict. He permitted it to employ its fire, anticipating a similar mutation to the one at the ravine, but to no avail. Even as it faced an enormous mountain ogre the flames did not change, only assuming the purple hue and properties once or twice for a breath of time. Disappointed but undeterred, Sesshoumaru decided the creature’s current power would do for present and he pressed on through the wilds.

Plains opened wide and spread before him, trees and mountains sprang up around him. In the near distance he spotted it; a dark, thick forest that stretched for miles.As he slipped quietly between the trunks and pierced the heart of the place, he knew he had found what he’d sought. Choice rays of sunlight filtered through the intertwining boughs high above, creating pools of light on the forest floor. The air was thick and relatively cool, carrying the scents of the demons and animals which would serve as his prey. Were he a lesser creature, Sesshoumaru might have buckled under the weight of the haunting and malicious air that pervaded the forest. As he was, he barely felt it. Something about it all lulled his savage nature into contentment, and he found everything he could desire was present here. He would make his home in this sanctuary. ‘ _Their simple training will be enough for this place,’_ Sesshoumaru thought as he considered his servants. He gathered the trembling mess that was the half-breed and began his week-long trek across the tens of miles back to the castle.

______________________________________________________________________________

Kuroihi monitored the moon cycle constantly from the time they left the castle, growing more and more anxious as it faded away. A narrow crescent appeared and thickened, and she began to lose hope that they would arrive home in time for her to escape for her day of weakness. By a narrow stroke of luck, Sesshoumaru’s strides were swift and full, sweeping them through the castle gates as the moon swelled to nearly half-full above them. She’d made it with barely a day to spare. She graciously accepted Sesshoumaru’s dismissal of her and set about refreshing herself and finding somewhere to bed down for the night. Thankfully, with her master’s return, the focus of the castle staff had shifted away from her and she was permitted an undisturbed night to herself to search the closets for a spare set of slate grey clothing. Her day of rest came and went as usual. Kuroihi found herself unable to cry this time, however, far too overwhelmed to even begin processing it all. Her life had become unpredictable, dangerous, and she accepted that she would exist in a semi-permanent state of apprehension for the foreseeable future.

She was actually happy to return to her chores in the castle the next day. They were as predictable as the scowls Aoki flashed at her when the older female thought she wasn’t looking. Kuroihi wondered exactly what had caused Aoki to despise her so. It felt somehow worse today as Kuroihi attempted to repair the damage done to her uniform during her time away. Simple fraying ends or small rips were easily repaired with her crude stitching skills, but there were several holes and small areas where the cloth had been torn away. Kuroihi could only stare at it, puzzled about how to proceed without any spare cloth.

Aoki could take no more of watching the half-breed fumble along. Sesshoumaru was still exacting punishment on the lot of them for any individual’s failure, and she was not about to be lashed for Kuroihi’s bad stitch work.

“Can’t you even darn properly?” The blue-eyed female growled as she snatched the kimono from Kuroihi’s hands, ignoring the anger that flashed across the golden eyes. “Go relieve Kazawa. He has duties to complete before the day is out.”

Kuroihi shot Aoki a scowl of her own as the older female retreated to one of the small rooms that lined the hall of Sesshoumaru’s wing before departing. She knew Kazawa was attending Lord Sesshoumaru, who was meeting with his father in the eastern wing, and it took her a short while to track down exactly where. As she searched, she noticed a distinct difference in the very air of the eastern wing. Where she was used to a dark, dreary, and threatening atmosphere in Sesshoumaru’s wing, this area was filled with light from the open window slats, permitting the sounds and scents from the courtyards to filter through and make the halls warm and welcoming.

She found Kazawa and a marigold-clad attendant flanking a set of closed doors in comfortable kneeling postures. The pair paused whatever silent conversation they had been holding to examine her as she approached and knelt near Kazawa. It was incredibly rude to address one’s superior from above them. He was reluctant to accept being relieved, but Kuroihi suspected it was due to his desire to remain in this comfortable place rather than any sense of loyalty to their master. Kuroihi slipped into Kazawa’s spot once he departed, sharing a comfortable silence with the General’s attendant as both focused on not eavesdropping on the conversation behind the intricately decorated heavy wooden doors. Beyond the lacquer and inlaid gold barrier, a war of wills and dominance was raging. The massive jyaki of both daiyoukai clashed, the energy making Kuroihi’s hair stand on end and electrifying the air. Soft and polite voices gradually rose into vibrating baritones, and as hard as they tried, neither attendant could block the conversation out anymore.

Inside, the young Lord Sesshoumaru and his father, the Grand Inu no Taishou Touga, stared each other down.

“I do not understand father’s objection.” Sesshoumaru reiterated, his frustration seeping through the cracks in his placid façade.

“Then you fail to understand the natural order of things.” Touga replied simply. Sesshoumaru’s jyaki thrummed in retort, but Touga continued, quite unimpressed. “You have been, up to this point, an entity within my home, wielding both my name and authority wherever you have chosen to wander. It is only because of this that you have been permitted the attention of my own vassals. In establishing this territory of your own, defining yourself as a singular and independent entity, you surrender your claim to these conveniences.”

“Am I to be stripped of my basic rights as well?” Sesshoumaru hissed impatiently through his teeth.

Touga chuckled with callous amusement, “’Rights’? What ‘rights’?” All benevolence left him, and he narrowed his frozen marigold eyes.

Sesshoumaru recognized the brutal nature for which he had once respected his father come to the fore, and he trembled. “My attendants are-" he began, but was cut off.

“ _MY_ vassals.” Touga growled, red gleaming at the edges of his eyes. “Of which you have cost me many during your terse existence. Do you regard Fuyutoka as ignorant to your childish machinations? Or Rekkonji blind to the effects of your venomous influence? You are not as sly as you imagine yourself to be, disgraceful _whelp._ ” Red feathered to tease at marigold, and Touga’s voice lowered into a vicious snarl. “Were you not my blood, such a reprehensible creature as you would have been crushed beneath my boot long ago.”

Sesshoumaru continued to tremble as his instincts and nature warred inside of him. Gradually, he lowered his head with the shame of his father’s words, nose wrinkling to bare his fangs at that terrible entity. The General slowly rose from his zabuton, eyes gleaming a savage crimson as he loomed over his incorrigible spawn.

“Your decision is your own, Sesshoumaru.” Touga said, voice barely a whisper. He would not keep the young prince from leaving, but would force him to suffer the ramifications should he follow through.

Sesshoumaru rose hesitantly to his feet and retreated into the hall, never turning his back on the Inu no Taishou. He made to leave, snapping at the half-breed to follow. It began to rise, but paused when the General’s attendant made a halting gesture and slipped back down to its knees. Sesshoumaru’s jyaki flared with his fury; was he being denied even the hanyou?! His father’s insults were more than he could bear any longer. Without another look back, Sesshoumaru tore through the castle and into the depths of the wilds beyond its accursed walls.


	12. Chapter 11: Arduous Times

Murmurs rippled throughout the servant body in the weeks following the prince’s flight from the castle, always behind sleeves or in dark corridors. Lord Sesshoumaru had been cast out, they said, and they each had their own imagined reasons. However, none discussed this recent development more avidly than Aoki or Kazawa.

The manner of Sesshoumaru’s departure indicated it would be a significant span of time before he returned; if he returned at all. In the meantime, the General was without an heir, something they were sure would be rectified. Would the Inu no Taishou mate again with Sesshoumaru’s mother, they wondered? Or perhaps take a new mate? Either way, would the new pup be different from Sesshoumaru, or daresay worse? The two veteran servants argued over which scenario to hope for.

Kuroihi was even more lost than they. With Sesshoumaru gone, she was again on her own without the sway of her master over the other denizens at the castle-base. Knowing nothing else, she resumed some of her former assignments. As she stuffed logs into the fire pit for the baths once more, she tried desperately to plan for her future here at the castle. Would Fuyutoka now be as cruel to her as he had been in the past? Nothing could be worse than Sesshoumaru, she figured, but she had more patience for the prince’s antics than for Fuyutoka’s. How long could she last? Surely there was more for her to do than the same old menial tasks she’d assumed once more.

Watching the flames dance in the pit, a thought struck her: What about Rekkonji? Should she ask if she was allowed to continue her training under him? Perhaps, transfer to the foot soldiers? Even if she could, to what end would it be? She couldn’t exactly waltz onto the battlefield with the General or on his behalf. Not only were his enemies and their minions far stronger than she, but to have a hanyou publicly represent someone as an underling even in battle was more shame than even the General would take on, she was certain.

Still…it was either give it a shot or resign herself to continuing her former life until Sesshoumaru returned. ‘Anything is better than serving under Fuyutoka again…’ she thought, brushing shards of bark from her hands and making her way back inside. She could not approach the Warmaster herself, her rank being too far below his, but she knew someone who could. She had only to convince him to speak on her behalf; but how?

The trees in the grove surrounding the castle had all but shed their leaves for the Autumn season by the time Kuroihi approached Kazawa. The two hadn’t spoken for weeks, since the prince’s flight, and she made sure to approach him when he was alone and unwatched by prying eyes. At first, Kazawa ignored the hanyou, expecting her to pass him by as she worked; but she paused within conversational distance, head bowed appropriately. Finally, he chose to recognize her.

“Yes?” He asked, his tone neutral as he carefully folded a set of hakama.

“Kazawa-san seems relaxed these days.” Kuroihi said kindly, opening the conversation with the expected niceties.

Kazawa grunted in the affirmative, but did not return them. Instead, he took his time to finish folding the clothing and tucked it neatly away before turning to face the female.

“What is it you want?” His tone hinted at impatience.

She hesitated for a moment. “Those such as myself have not the freedom of speech in the way those such as yourself do. Even were I to wish to speak with the Warmaster, I could not.”

Kazawa rose a brow. “And what words could ‘one such as yourself’ have for the honorable Warmaster?” He continued to hint at his impatience with his tone.

Kuroihi bowed her head lower. “Were I so crass as to speak to that gracious one so directly…” She hesitated again, letting it sink in that she understood her position very well, “I would perhaps offer my efforts to him and his warriors. Were it that I was completely lacking in propriety, I would request, at the very least, to continue under his expert tutelage.”

Kazawa considered. “It is perhaps for the better that you are not so arrogant as to approach the Warmaster with such words.”

Kuroihi remained bowed as Kazawa swept past her and down the hall toward his next task. She was left wondering whether he would mention anything at all to the Warmaster in the end.

As Kuroihi waited for the outcome of her discussion with Kazawa, she decided she would not allow herself to again become Fuyutoka's go-for and scapegoat, as he was attempting to make her. He tried to order her into the bowels of the castle where she would be hidden as she repaired tatami mats and shouji doors, but Kuroihi did not respond to his command, choosing instead to retort.

"There are others more skilled than myself to see to such things, are there not, honorable Overseer? If I recall, in the past, I have often erred in my attempts at such work." Kuroihi chose her tone carefully, trying to avoid seeming imprudent.

Nevertheless, Fuyutoka's lip curled. How dare she talk back to him! "You'll do as you are commanded, insolent whelp!"

Kuroihi wittily took advantage of the opening Fuyutoka had given her. "If such is the case, then I should tend to Lord Sesshoumaru's quarters and possessions." She argued. Fuyutoka's face flushed with anger, but Kuroihi continued. "My currently standing orders are to care for Sesshoumaru-sama, his needs, and his possessions. While his lordship has departed for now, his rooms and items remain. With Aoki under your command once more and Kazawa under the honorable Warmaster's, none remain to fulfill that task."

Kuroihi thought Fuyutoka would burst with rage, and she could see the internal war in his eyes. He knew she was right, but she was the one to say it. Eventually, he growled. "I see your attempt to worm your way out of work for what it is, half-breed. Those quarters had best be spotless!" Without another word, he turned sharply and stomped away.

Kuroihi could only smirk. For once, she had won.

She returned to Sesshoumaru's quarters to take stock of what needed to be done, and to select a more permanent closet in which to sleep. Even with the monster away, she doubted the other servants would dare venture anywhere near his lair anytime soon. Once again, her hell became her safe haven.

* * *

 

The days trickled by, and every time Kazawa laid eyes on Rekkonji, the hanyou's words rang in the back of his mind. No, he would not bring such a thing to the Warmaster! It was not his responsibility to make requests of his superiors on behalf of his lessers; especially not a half-breed. ...But, he could not ignore that she had weathered Sesshoumaru's torture far better than any others thus far aside from himself and Aoki. Perhaps having her in his debt would prove to be useful for him? Yes; and it was not so grandiose a request to make. Practice ended soon after he made his decision. He was preparing his words for the Warmaster when the jackal approached him.

"You are alone again today, I see." Rekkonji mused. "Where is the half-breed? Was she not ordered into combat training?"

Kazawa scrambled mentally to improvise. "Well... That is to say... She was unsure as to whether she would be allowed to continue and chose the more appropriate path for one such as herself."  'Damnit' Kazawa cursed himself mentally. Rekkonji had caught him off-guard, and Kazawa had spoken more truthfully than he had intended to do.

"Is that so?" The Warmaster stroked at his goatee for a moment. "Bring her tomorrow."

Kazawa bowed in acquiescence and departed for his afternoon meal break. Did this scenario fulfill his side of the silent bargain he'd struck with the half-breed? He decided it did, that she was now in his debt, and he was sure she would agree when he fetched her the next morning to return to the training fields.

Kuroihi was pleasantly surprised when Kazawa arrived to deliver the words of the Warmaster. She understood and accepted that she was in debt to Kazawa for something equitable to her request, which could be almost anything. However, she didn't allow herself to be preoccupied by such thoughts once she had fitted into a proper gi and joined Kazawa and the others.

Already, she could feel the seasoned fighters sizing her up, her tufted ears catching their whispers of cruel jest and disbelief. This would be nothing like working with Kazawa and Rekkonji had been, but she would have to find some way to endure it. She still desired to leave this place, and she knew quite well she was not ready to brave the open wilds on her own and have any hope to survive. To Kuroihi, this was about more than an interest in combat; it was a matter of life and death.

\------

The weeks passed slowly at the castle-base as Autumn gave way to Winter's embrace. Soon, the fighters were having to don a second layer just to be outside, and Kuroihi was often 'asked' to assist some of the other servants in bringing home more trees for firewood. She was used to having to manage the cold, however it seemed this year's chill was sharper than any before it.

            Sesshoumaru still had not returned nor sent word to his father. The Winter solstice was upon them, and still, nothing. Kuroihi began hearing ghosts of voices and footfalls beyond the painted shouji doors that delineated the entry to Sesshoumaru's wing; the servants were growing brave in his extended absence. She was certain that they would soon abandon all caution and venture beyond the barrier, for whatever reason. So, she began emptying the closets of Sesshoumaru's things and stashing them away deeper inside his quarters. She hoped that if they found nothing, they would lose interest. Unfortunately, that would not be the case, and Kuroihi soon found herself nestled tightly in one of the corners of Sesshoumaru's inner sanctum to avoid being caught.

Winter melted into Spring, and finally what Kuroihi feared finally happened. As she settled into her usual corner after returning from her day of rest, she heard the inner shouji doors slide open and several hushed voices. Panic twisted in her chest. She didn't recognize the voices as either Aoki or Kazawa, or any of the General's attendants. Who would dare trespass in the prince's quarters? She cared less for Sesshoumaru's opinion and more for the fact that this was her last safe haven. Thinking quickly, she took up a rag from her bedding and fetched an empty oil bowl from its stand. Pretending to polish it, she approached the breached tatami room. A pair of Fuyutoka's favored servants were just stepping inside when she came to face them, still in the shadows of the innermost sanctum. She steeled all her nerves.

"Good evening." Kuroihi said flatly, continuing to run the rag along the oil bowl.

The two demons started and made to run until they realized it was only her. One began to speak, but Kuroihi cut him off.

"These are Lord Sesshoumaru's private quarters. What business do you have here in his absence?" She did her best to add a growled undertone to her voice.

The demons sputtered, then chuckled, hands raised as they backed out of the room. "It was only a jest," one claimed.

Kuroihi could tell their 'retreat' was insincere, and she followed them all the way back through the painted shouji doors, watching with sharp eyes until they rounded the corner down the hall toward the rest of the castle.

'Damnit...' she thought. Her final sanctuary had been invaded, and with her heart in her throat, she realized this would only be the first of several attempts. To what end, however, she was unsure. A week later, it happened again, and once more a few nights after that. They were growing braver, as she’d predicted, and Kuroihi's minor blustering had less and less effect.

' _Sesshoumaru-sama_ ,' Kuroihi thought desperately, “ _where are you_?'

* * *

 

“What do you plan to do, my friend?” Rekkonji asked Touga as they studied the maps of a southern territory the General wished to conquer.

Touga paused and lifted his gaze to his companion. “What do you mean?”

“Concerning Sesshoumaru.” Rekkonji clarified. “It has been nearly two years since his departure. He has never been away for so long.”

Touga hummed with comprehension and thought for a moment. “He is young, but a grown pup. He may do as he pleases so long as it is under his own name.”

“And what of him as your heir? Do you still plan for him to inherit your domain?”

Touga pursed his lips. “...As he is, I do not. However, I hold out hope that he will one day come around. Whether it is another year from now, or several decades. These things take time, as you know. The finest blades are those slowly and thoroughly tempered.”

Rekkonji nodded in agreement. “Then you plan to wait for him to come around?”

Touga smirked. “If you are asking if I plan to mate again, I do not. One pup is more than enough.”

Rekkonji chuckled with his friend, then paused, uncertain of how to broach the next subject of interest for him. “Insignificant though she may be, perhaps something should be done with the hanyou in the meantime.” Touga again spared his friend a glance to show he was listening. “Aoki and Kazawa have both been reassigned, yet the hanyou remains under Sesshoumaru's command, as well as yours. She continues to tend to his wing as though he were present. Is it wise to allow this? Should she not be given a more important task?”

“Have you a place for her amongst your ranks?” Touga asked.

Rekkonji shook his head. “She is still weak and untalented where battle is concerned, and would not even serve well as a scout or distraction.”

“And Fuyutoka has no want of her either. To where should she go, then?” Rekkonji nodded as he came to understand, and the General continued. “Allow her to remain. It keeps her out of trouble, and when Sesshoumaru does return, it will be a humbling realization that only she is present to tend to him.”

Rekkonji nodded again, but frowned. “I still do not understand why you insist on keeping such a creature around. She is barely useful.”

Touga chuckled. “Her uses are not so easily defined, but she does have them. Besides, I would be remiss to cast aside a gift of recompense.”

“You are speaking of the encounter with her parents those decades ago?”

The General nodded.

Rekkonji opened his mouth as though he had more to say, but then closed it and simply shook his head. “So many centuries and I still do not understand you sometimes.”

Touga just smiled. “I know.”

* * *

 

The days dragged by as the young Lord continued to be absent. Kuroihi maintained her schedule of training, avoiding the other servants, and keeping up Sesshoumaru's quarters. The servants continued trying their luck venturing deeper into the prince’s wing, scrounging for any luxuries he had left behind. Try though she might, Kuroihi found she could no longer defend the place. She tucked what items she could salvage into protective wrappings and hid them away under the floorboards. At the same time, the fighters continued their own regimen of torments. Their strokes fell harder on her than on each other, and their tactics became cruel. Whatever it took to bring her to her knees in defeat, they did. Such antics would have gone unnoticed and unaddressed by Fuyutoka. Unfortunately, things were similar with Rekkonji. While he commented on the fighters’ ‘dirty tactics’, he did not reprimand them and always told Kuroihi to ‘try harder’.

Gradually, Kuroihi began retaliating against the other fighters in the same ways they bullied her. As with the other fighters, Rekkonji scolded her for the dirty tactics, but otherwise said nothing. The more she retaliated, the harder the other fighters were on her, Kazawa included. And the more they bullied her, the harder she fought back. Through it all, Rekkonji said nothing. Kuroihi barely realized just how much stronger the ordeals were making her, how they tempered her. She steadily grew to be a challenge for some of the lesser fighters, and then began defeating them. She could hardly believe it any more than they. Slaying a human was one thing, but to defeat even a lesser demon, for her, was poignant.

The other fighters mocked and shamed the ones she managed to defeat. Had something similar occurred while Kuroihi was under Fuyutoka’s command, the Overseer would have lashed her for her audacity. But as the trainees laughed and Kuroihi began lifting her chin with pride, Rekkonji continued to say nothing.

It was well into the Summer of the third year that Kuroihi felt a change. Something about that day felt wrong, foreboding, and she found herself distracted. She was pinning laundry to the drying line when she felt a familiar weight on the air. A chill ran down her spine, and she sprinted to the window which faced the front gates. She suspected she knew what she would find there, and her insides twisted as she saw she was correct.

Making his way leisurely through the grove toward the front gates was Sesshoumaru.


	13. Chapter 12: Return

The guards on the ramparts eyed Sesshoumaru warily as the young daiyoukai's dark, oppressive aura fell over them. The gatekeepers knew better than to attempt to deny him entry even after three years, and the main gates cranked open to permit him. Whispers echoed between the guards, and one scurried off to alert the General. Hands in his sleeves and head held high with noble entitlement, Sesshoumaru swept into the immaculately kept courtyard to await his receiving party. One of the General's attendants in their floral marigold garb soon appeared and bowed low to welcome him. She did not, however, prostrate herself in a full and formal bow, as Sesshoumaru was used to seeing, and he quirked a delicate brow just so at the female.

 

 ‘ _Father’,_ he thought, ‘ _are you still so displeased that I am to be treated with such a lack of respect?’_

 

“Esteemed Lord Sesshoumaru, your presence honors this place.” The female began, and Sesshoumaru could find no hint of insincerity in her tone. “To what grace do we owe this visit?”

 

The young prince tilted his chin up to emphasize his higher standing. “You will arrange an audience with my father, female. I shall await him on the third-floor terrace.”

He was about to step away when she replied.

 

“I will pass the message along to him. However, that honorable one has been quite busy as of late. There may be a delay in his meeting with you.” Again, her tone was perfectly polite.

 

Sesshoumaru’s jyaki flared with momentary rage at the implication that his father would delay in seeing his own son. “I will await him on the terrace,” he reiterated through gritted teeth, and he stepped away before the female could say anything more.

 

The young daiyoukai recalled his last conversation with his father clearly, and smirked to himself as he settled in to wait. Surely, he thought, the General would appear quickly to deal with this Sesshoumaru; but the prince found himself disappointed as morning brightened into afternoon, and then faded into evening. Finally, as the first stars began peeking through the ultramarine sky, the General arrived in a leisurely state donning his evening kimono.

 

“Sesshoumaru.” Touga greeted his decadent pup with an impatient tone, tucking his arms into his sleeves.

 

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes for a moment to force his irritation at being made to wait for hours on end to pass before responding. “Good evening, chichi-ue.” He nodded his head respectfully. “It has been some time.”

 

“Why is it that you have returned to this place in such an assuming manner? Did I not make myself clear when last we spoke?” Touga demanded.

 

“Father did make his stance very clear,” Sesshoumaru said bitterly, “which is why this Sesshoumaru presents himself as a ‘guest’.” He could hardly speak the word, as insincere as it was.

 

“’Guest’.” The General repeated, disbelieving. “Guests do not demand an audience of their host and then trespass further into their very home. You still have learned nothing of decorum.” Touga growled. “Why have you returned?”

 

Sesshoumaru ran the caustic words over his tongue once or twice before speaking. “I _humbly_ seek father’s expertise in combat. Being the son of a great general places many expectations upon my person, and I seek to exceed them.”

 

Touga stared at his pup for a long moment, fangs grinding together as the two males stared each other down. “…I will train you, Sesshoumaru,” the General finally answered, “in the art of combat; but also in the arts of conversation, consideration, propriety, and politics. One does not come without the rest. You must agree to this, or else return swiftly to the forest you have claimed as your own.”

 

Sesshoumaru’s eyes narrowed as he continued to stare his father down, but the older demon gave not an inch. He was adamant, and Sesshoumaru knew nothing could make him budge. Finally, the young prince answered.

 

“As you wish, chichi-ue _._ ” His tone was biting even as he bowed his head appropriately.

 

Touga pursed his lips. “…I will allow you to stay in what used to be your quarters here for the time being-as a  _guest_ -, but know this: I cannot promise that any of my vassals will choose to tend to you, and I will assign you none. You may well be left to your own devices. Either way, you will make no trouble while you are here. For anyone. Good evening.” The Inu no Taishou spoke with a lethal finality before ducking his way back inside his castle and disappearing.

 

No servants? Not one? Left to himself in this place like a lowly commoner? And to be so flippantly dismissed and disrespected! Sesshoumaru stared at the doorway his father had passed through for several long minutes, choking down his bubbling rage and disbelief. He forced himself to calm, smoothing a stray lock of hair back into place with a soft ‘hmph’, and made his way down through the stories of the castle toward his former quarters.

 

Despite his father’s decree, Sesshoumaru expected to see Aoki or Kazawa around the next corner, waiting to fall into line behind him. At each turn, however, he found himself disappointed. Standing before the elegantly painted shouji doors, he was alone. None had come to tend to him, only started and quickly deferred to his passing. Sliding open the doors to his quarters for himself was like grinding salt into the wound his father had left, as was what he found within.

 

The rooms were dark and seemingly abandoned. The cushions, tables, and other everyday items he recalled having been here were missing. At first, he assumed they were simply tucked away to await use, however as he ventured deeper he found the personal items he had left behind were also missing. Had they been moved elsewhere? Or perhaps…discarded? Sesshoumaru felt another wave of anger begin to rise, coupled by a rush of fantastically vindictive suppositions, but he entertained them with only a soft chuckle. If this was the game his father wished to play, then Sesshoumaru would acquiesce.

 

He made his way to the wooden door which led to the veranda outside and slid it smoothly open. The evening breeze filled his room, clearing away the stagnant scents. Out of habit, he analyzed each one as they passed. Bamboo, cotton, lacquer, iron, and…something else. He drew a slow, deep breath, focusing on the odd smell. While he recognized it, he could not place from where, and his attempts to pinpoint its source turned up nothing. Something about it repulsed him, but before he could discern why, the ‘tink’ing of stoneware distracted him.

 

Someone was at the entrance to his wing.

 

            The soft tapping of claws on wood came from just outside the tatami room, and haughty satisfaction swelled in his chest. ‘ _It must be Aoki. Hmph. And father said none would tend to me.’_  Confidant in his supposition, he strode into the tatami room and settled himself regally in the spot he had once favored.

 

            “Enter,” he said smoothly. But the satisfaction he felt ran cold in his veins as the door slid open to reveal not the blue-eyed veteran, but the tufted ears of the hanyou creature. He now knew why that odd metallic scent had repulsed him so; it belonged to this disgraceful being. His lips curled into a scowl as he realized what it meant. That… _thing_ …frequented his rooms in his absence. Indignation coiled tightly in his chest as he watched the creature bow and pour him a cup of tea.

 

             “You…” Sesshoumaru growled, and it flinched, “Why are _you_ here?”

 

It kept its eyes fixed on the tray it brought in. “This one brings refreshments for the honored guest of the General, and hopes the young prince finds the accommodations to his liking. Should he require anything, he has but to ask.” It bowed once more as though to demonstrate its sincerity.

 

Sesshoumaru could not even begin to process the scene in which he found himself, and he spoke with a furious calm. “Get. Out.”

 

It did not scurry away from him, despite its blatant fear, but instead excused itself calmly and departed.

 

Sesshoumaru found no satisfaction in his solitude, and stared blankly at the steaming tea before him. This was not at all how he had expected to be received or treated. It was only after he laid himself down for the night that he realized the hanyou had not been wearing his slate grey uniform, but rather something akin to what he remembered seeing Rekkonji’s trainees wear. His mind scrambled to make sense of the day’s events-from his arrival until now-, but the only thing he found he could conclude with confidence was that his father was already up to something.

 

* * *

 

 

Back in her chosen closet for the week, Kuroihi shuddered. While the tempering she’d gone through during these last three years of training with Rekkonji’s recruits kept her from trembling to the core, she could not completely resist Sesshoumaru’s overwhelming influence. Still, as strange as it felt, she was proud of herself. She hadn’t faltered during the encounter even once!

 

As she laid herself down for sleep, the wheels in her head began to turn. She had over-heard the General’s earlier discussion with Fuyutoka to extend Sesshoumaru only the most basic of hospitalities, meaning the prince would have to fend for himself. There was an opportunity there for her, if she chose to seize it; but was she so daring as that? Foolish enough?

 

Nearly the entire castle-base held its breath as the next few days passed slowly. Touga had commanded his son to cause no trouble, but hadn’t passed that word on to the other denizens. For all they knew, the prince’s former reign of terror would begin anew, and none desired to be anywhere near him. Aoki and Kazawa especially breathed sighs of relief when they realized they would not be repurposed, and both chuckled between themselves knowing that asshole would finally get what was coming to him.

 

As the days melted into weeks and months, Kuroihi continued to consider and to plot. She watched as Sesshoumaru’s displeasure grew into a mockery of his forced independence, then edged toward acceptance. If she still understood her former master as well as she thought she did, it would be quite some time before he sank into full resignation of his circumstances. It would be during that transitional period that she would have to act, and carefully. If Sesshoumaru even suspected what she was going to do, her entire plan would fail. There would be no damage to her reputation if it did, but that would make things more difficult for her in the long run; and her life was still hard enough as was.


End file.
